


Gemini Elementia

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Dimension Travel, Established Relationship, M/M, Sexual Content, Threesome - M/M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: After a peculiar blast of magic sends Ignis and Prompto to a bizarre alternate version of Insomnia, the pair quickly realize that something isn't quite right. The city, in a state of devastating destruction; daemons running about, despite the presence of permanent sunlight - no signs of non-daemon life to be found anywhere.But what's even more peculiar is the echo of oddly familiar footsteps in the hallway of the Citadel, signifying that they aren't alone after all... and the more they learn about their situation, the more they discover that maybe there's a reason why they were brought here to this purgatory, transcending both time and reality.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 44
Kudos: 145
Collections: 2019 Promnis Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is at last: my entry for the Promnis Big Bang 2019! This was an idea I had kicking around a year or so ago and finally had an excuse to write it. What was once a self-indulgent throwaway idea became much, much more, thanks to the Big Bang, so I hope you enjoy this emotional wild ride of a story!
> 
> Special and sincerest thanks to [Del](https://delborovic.tumblr.com) for the jaw-droppingly gorgeous cover art and [Teneniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teneniel/pseuds/Teneniel) for editing!!

Gemini Elementia

(Artwork by [Deltastic)](https://delborovic.tumblr.com)

CHAPTER ONE

“It’ll be fine,” Wiz had said earlier that evening, as confident as he was of the food he’d just served his four hungry guests. “Piece of cake for you fellas, right?”

Under different circumstances, maybe. A ‘piece of cake’ would have applied to the typical beast hunts they’d take on during daytime hours; tough to take down, but nothing the four of them couldn’t handle. A couple anaks here, some sabretusks there, maybe a sahagin or two - heck, even a damn  _ behemoth _ would have been considered a ‘piece of cake’ compared to  _ this. _

Hunting daemons at night, in so many words, was not pleasant. There wasn’t even a smidge of sickly-sweet frosting to be seen. No light and fluffy sugary bread, no cherries on top, not even a cupcake wrapper. Instead, there were nothing but close calls, status effects, pain, and blood. A whole lot of it.

Of  _ course  _ the daemons for this bounty only showed up in the middle of the damn Nebulawood, among horror movie-esque trees far far away from the roads and the Wiz Chocobo Post. There were reported to be three Mindflayers there; bizarre, octopus-like deities that looked like they belonged in an RPG or something else based in dark fantasy. Noctis’ entourage weren’t strangers to the peculiar creatures - they’d fought them once or twice before while exploring caves, but there was never more than one at a time. And one on its own was hard enough to deal with, let alone  _ three. _

Going on this hunt, they’d quickly learned, had been a mistake.

“Noct, on your right!” shouted Gladiolus.

“You think I can’t see it?” retorted Noctis.

“Noct, now’s  _ hardly _ the time for----auuuuggh!”

And there was the blood. 

Gladiolus, ensnared within the daemon’s tentacle-y net, was thrown clear across the way, his body making a sickening  _ slam _ ,  _ crack _ sound as he collided with a tree and its sharp branches. The shards of wood sliced open his arm, a flash of red illuminating in the haze of Noctis’ magic as the prince warped over to his aid.

“I’m  _ fine, _ get out of here,” Gladiolus hissed.

Noctis, ignoring him, tossed a potion his way, then warped back to the battle.

Two of the three Mindflayers appeared to work as a unit, remaining close to one another. One would snare with their flowing tendrils if someone dared get too close, and the other would unleash a burst of heavy mist, its smell putrid and intoxicating as it impaired those who were unlucky enough to inhale it.

The other two members of Noctis’ entourage also worked as a unit, as it were.

Ignis and Prompto, back to back, covered the other while one went in for an attack. Ignis, ever present with his speed and magic-infused daggers, sliced and dealt deadly blows in the blink of an eye. Prompto kept his distance, getting a shot in when he could, and when it was time for Ignis to cover him, he whipped out his massive Bioblaster and fired as many shots as possible before the daemons launched their counterattack. 

It worked, except when it didn’t.

Distracted by Gladiolus’ wipeout on the nearby tree, Prompto lost his focus for  _ just one second _ and quickly found himself swimming in a thick white haze. His chest burned and he gasped for air, as if the few traces of oxygen that lingered in his lungs were clawing at his flesh, trying to burst free.

Then, came the debilitating headache.

Disoriented, Prompto stumbled, falling to the ground. He couldn’t see - and for a second he couldn’t hear, either. He reached out in front of him, pawing at the air as he tried to speak, though only a mess of gibberish tumbled past his lips.

“Prompto!” came Ignis’ panicked cry.

“Oh, great,” Gladiolus groaned. “Prompto’s off his rocker.”

Where was he?

_ Who _ was he?

Shit. He was under the mist’s effect.

Oh well, it wasn't anything he couldn’t handle. Prompto had been ‘confused’ before, and as  _ not fun  _ as it was, he normally just kept to himself on the other side of the battlefield until it wore off. No sweat, right? He rarely ever hallucina---- oh shit, was that an Iron Giant to his right?!

Without hesitation, he whipped out his Bioblaster and fired.

“Auuuuugh!” someone screamed, a flurry of voices following in the haze.

“Gladio!!!”

“Someone toss the damn kid some smelling salts already!”

“On it!”

Prompto’s world was spinning - was he actually spinning, literally? - and he thought he could hear the voices of his friends echoing on his eardrums, but then he felt like he was swimming in water as heavy as lead that weighed down his remaining senses.

“Hey, Prompto,” said someone nearby, their voice muffled and quiet. “Prompto can you----ugh, watch where you’re aiming that damn thing!”

Prompto stumbled, then swore he felt something grab at him. In an instant, his sinuses felt like they were lined with liquid hot magma, and he couldn’t breathe.

Then, the fog cleared.

“Wha?” Prompto mumbled. He blinked once, twice. Then three times. And then he was back.

Prompto frowned, releasing his blaster back into the Armiger. There was a blip in his memory; he couldn’t remember what had just happened. But thankfully it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

_ Right. Tentacle dudes. Mist. Snorting said mist caused bad things to happen. Got it. _

“Sorry, guys,” Prompto huffed. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling embarrassed. Why was it always him who got blasted with status effect spells? It was like, his  _ thing _ , apparently.

“Hey, it’s no sweat.” His best friend Noctis was at his side, holding a little baggie of smelling salts, both him and the minerals his savior of the moment.  _ Poof _ went the baggie to join his blaster, and with a smile, Noctis clapped his shoulder and warped back into the fray.

With a sigh, Prompto shakily rose to his feet, dragging his boots over to a nearby tree to retrieve his bearings. Even with the spell lifted, he still felt remnants of its magic in his system, leaving his nerves on edge and his senses foggy. He knew he’d be completely back to normal in a few more minutes, but he still felt hyper aware of the liability he posed to the group if he were to return to the battle now. The last thing he needed was to cause more trouble for the others. Just a minute or two longer, then----

The sound of worn Oxfords scraping in the dirt rose at his left. He knew those footsteps anywhere - the long, calculated strides of someone far more composed and ten times cooler than him. He felt the floodgates open with a rush of guilt, his mind scrambling to come up with an excuse as to why he was over here instead of over  _ there _ helping everyone. But before he could say anything, his anxious thoughts were interrupted by the rumble of a warm voice.

“Are you all right?” asked the poised, smooth accent. “I fear we may retreat at this rate.”

Ignis. 

His trusted companion.

His sparring partner.

His other half.

The love of his life.

“Yeah, babe, I’m fine,” Prompto insisted. He took a heavy breath, pushing his defeated-by-gravity-at-last hair out of his face. A reassuring smile followed, his violet-blue eyes glinting in the direction of his partner. “Just peachy. Just needed a moment, y’know? Won’t happen again, I swear.”

Ignis gave him a fond smile, a peek of teeth between his perfect lips that Prompto swore sparkled like a cartoon. “Wonderful. On your feet,” he said, patting Prompto’s arm. “I have a plan. Follow my lead.”

“O-oh,” Prompto replied. Didn’t Ignis just say they might retreat? “Sure.” 

Prompto followed after Ignis, watching as the tall man summoned his daggers into his gloved palms. “They have an affinity to ice,” Ignis explained, his grip on the daggers tightening. “My plan is to deploy a lightning spell - I shall enhance my weapons with the element, while Noctis has several lightning flasks in his arsenal - and when the creatures are stunned, you and Gladio will go in with a powerful physical attack. Gladio with Tempest, then you, equipped with your blaster, go in with Gravisphere to finish them off. Do you understand?”

Prompto still felt a bit hazy - had those salts really worked? Was this even happening? Was he---- “Uh, yeah. Blaster. Gravisphere,” Prompto repeated. “Got it.”

Ignis glanced over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. “If you want to sit this out---”

“Listen, I said I’m fine, so I’m fine, okay?” Prompto grumbled. “I’m tired of you guys always coddling me just cuz I happened to get zapped by a spell. I’m good! Really! As you say, ‘total clarity’, yeah?” 

“Total clarity,” affirmed Ignis. “That is what I expect from you. If we are to have any hope of taking these daemons down tonight, we can’t afford another slip up. Timing is key. Be on your mark.”

Prompto felt Ignis’ words sting. He knew Ignis didn’t mean it like that, but damn, did he ever feel like a screw up now, as if the poor state of this hunt was all his fault. “Total clarity,” he reiterated, taking another deep, slow breath. “You got it, Iggy.”

Prompto watched as Ignis quickly filled Noctis and Gladiolus in of his plan. Ever-confident, Gladiolus nodded, stepping back to join Prompto temporarily on the sidelines. Lightning crackled through the steel of Ignis’ daggers, and while Noctis quickly crafted two or three lightning bombs, Prompto felt his already-faltering self esteem lower even further.

Why did  _ he _ have to deliver the finishing blow?

Did Ignis really have that much faith in him?

“Dammit,” Prompto hissed under his breath. They were counting on him. Ignis was right - timing was crucial. If he messed this up---

No. He wouldn’t mess this up. He could do this.

Light illuminated the forest, the thin, brittle branches stark in the shadows, like a drawing etched in black ink. Noctis had thrown the first bomb in the middle of the Mindflayer group, the resulting  _ boom _ like a foreboding thunderstorm. The second quickly followed, and just as Ignis had predicted, the creatures were stunned, giving way to a surprise attack by a quick tactician armed with sparking daggers.

“Now, Gladio!”

Prompto’s hands shook, summoning his Bioblaster once more in preparation. His eyes fell to the ground, rather than to the battle in front of him, fumbling with the weight of his weapon as if he had never held the bulk of it before. Fear, overwhelming, suffocating  _ fear _ took hold of him, and he wasn’t sure why - what was going on? The others were depending on him and  _ any second now _ he was supposed to go in for the finishing blow----

Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a tendril lined with suction cups, rank in scent, dripping with grime, and capable of stripping flesh clean off your bones if you got too close.

“Shit---look out!” yelled Noctis.

“How---”

Before Prompto could react, he was blinded by a flash of bright white light - so bright it was like he’d just looked directly into the sun, but couldn’t blink or avert his gaze - frozen, and never ending. It seared past his eye sockets, through his skull, like he was transparent, an apparition, body-less, nothing. He couldn’t see anything. He could see forever.

“Prompto!” someone shouted.

“Iggy!” came the voice of another.

The sound of his friends’ voices shouting both his and Ignis’ names in succession, like a chanted spell, echoed in the air. Louder, louder, then gradually more quiet, like he was aboard a moving train. They sounded so far now, miles and miles away, distorted and muffled. Were they under the ocean, or on the other end of a tin can telephone? Prompto didn't know. 

Then, the blinding light was flipped off like a lightswitch, and all that remained was darkness. A cold, endless void of nothing that had no beginning and no end, and Prompto felt like he was weightless. It was like he’d just---

He’d died.

That had to be it.

He was dead, and so were his friends. And it was all his fault.

_ I never even got to say goodbye to Ignis,  _ his voice echoed in the vast expanse of nothingness.

_ Did he know how much I loved him? _

_ Oh, Six. It's too late now. _

_ I hope you can forgive me.  _

_ I’m so sorry. _

-♊-♊-♊-

_ Throb. Throb. Throb. _

Pain.

As Prompto drifted through nothingness, out of nowhere there was  _ something  _ \- and that something was pain. The sudden transition was like a lost soul swirling in the endless whirlpool of the underworld, plucked out of nowhere from above and into a boat with the hook end of a cane.

Prompto’s head  _ ached. _

Actually, ache was an understatement - Gods, it was like it was trapped in a medieval vice. A horrible squeezing pressure closed around his temples, his eyes like lead balls being hammered to a wall as he swore his brain  _ pulsed _ like a tell tale heart.

Not even the world’s worst hangover could compare to  _ this _ .

Prompto groaned in agony. He coughed, sputtered, gasped for air. He couldn’t see, but he could at the very least  _ feel _ \- and he felt his body against the ground. His palms dragged along the surface, trying to grasp anything and everything he could - blindly attempting to place just where he was.

Pavement.

He… was lying on pavement.

But how?

Memories began to slowly bubble back to the surface of his mind. Right. He had been in the forest. At night. With his friends. Why? Right, right - they had taken on a hunt. A dangerous hunt. He and the others had been in the Nebulawood, the forest’s floor coated in twigs and rocks and dirt like an uncomfortable pokey blanket. 

But if that was true, then why and how was he on pavement now? Had the daemons tossed him all the way back to the road? No, that wasn’t right. As powerful as those daemons’ magic were, there was no way they could have sent him flying back to the roads. They’d been so far and deep in those woods; it had taken them at  _ least _ half an hour on foot to get there.

Then where  _ was _ he?

No matter how much he blinked and how long he rubbed at his eyes, Prompto couldn’t seem to focus. He growled in frustration, rolling onto his back as he stared up at nothing, his vision a dark hazy mess.

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t get up. Panic rose swiftly and intensely like a tidal wave, and he began to cry.

“Help!” Prompto yelled. “Help! Is someone there? I can’t see, and I don’t know where I am.”

He tried to sit up - to no avail, as the throbbing in his head immobilized him, rendering an upright position hopeless. He tried to move his legs - nope, didn’t work - it was like there was a disconnect from his body and his mind. Admitting defeat for now, Prompto had no choice but to lie there slumped on the ground like someone’s forgotten trash and hope to the Six that he didn’t get discovered by another hoard of rabid daemons in the process. 

Well. He wasn’t dead, like he’d thought he was. But depending on what would happen after his vision returned, maybe he would have been better off as such. 

Where was Ignis? Gladio? Noctis?

Prompto did his best to stave off his wandering thoughts in the meantime, keeping his strained eyes closed. Thankfully, the pain began to slowly subside, the throbbing dulling to a mere annoying thrum instead. His vision still wasn’t quite there, but it was better - he could see the blurred outline of his hand as he held it above him. Any progress was progress, right?

Prompto wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there, but it had felt like hours. He began to drift off to sleep, but his body’s plans were thwarted when he heard the sound of someone he knew  _ very _ well coming towards him.

Worn Oxfords.

Oh, shit, he could kiss those shoes right now. Love quickly filled his senses like wine in a glass and he soon bubbled over, forcing his body to bolt upright against his will. 

“Iggy?! Is that you?!” he yelped.

“Prompto, thank goodness,” Ignis huffed in relief. Prompto heard those footsteps move quicker and louder until deft hands gathered him up, lifting him gently until he was leaning against what he assumed was Ignis’ slender leg. “I’ve been looking for you for quite some time.”

“Oh man, oh man, am I ever glad to see you right now,” Prompto whined. “Er, well. Not see. Not exactly. But you’re here, and I know it, so whatever.” He sighed heavily, leaning against Ignis as a sense of security washed over him. Ignis was here. He was safe. And so was Ignis. “What the hell happened? Where are we?”

“If you recall, we were in the middle of a hunt in the Nebulawood,” Ignis explained, smoothing his long digits through Prompto’s hair. “You and I were victims of a particularly strong and nasty variation of a Mindflayer’s Mind Break spell.”

“Mindflayers… right.” Prompto recalled a flash of tentacle in the back of his mind. Was that the last thing he’d seen before he ‘died’? “Wait. Variation? What do you mean by ‘variation’?”

“Normally, a Mind Break spell merely casts a status effect, which happened to you briefly, but then the second burst was one I’ve never seen the likes of.”

Prompto recalled the final moments of that battle. They had all been going in for a synchronized attack - Noctis first, then Ignis, then Gladio, then---

Oh. 

That was right.

He’d still been impaired from that first Mind Break spell, but had insisted that he was fine. He was supposed to go in for the final strike, the grand finale - his Gravisphere skill should have taken out those daemons in a flash. But he’d failed.

“Ignis---” Prompto began, his voice squeaking with emotion.

“Never you mind that, Prompto,” Ignis replied, seemingly reading his mind. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, right, it wasn’t my fault,” Prompto hissed. “I totally messed up! I was supposed to  _ act _ , and instead I just stood there like a _ moron, _ and---”

“Hush,” Ignis tutted. “It wasn’t your fault because even if you had proceeded as planned, the attack wouldn’t have entirely been a success.”

“What?”

Ignis sighed. “At the last second, one Mindflayer retreated from the group. It dodged Noct’s bombs, slipping between the trees - and headed straight for you.”

_ Tentacles. _

“Oh,” said Prompto.

“I noticed the absence of the third daemon just after I’d landed my first strike - I turned and intended to shield you, but it was already too late. The daemon had already readied its attack. I rushed to your aide, but ended up getting caught in the worst of it. I held you in my arms, and the world went bright, then dark.”

“Ignis,” Prompto whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. As I said, it was not your fault. No one could have predicted this outcome. What matters is that both of us are safe now.”

“Did you have a headache?”

“Horrendous beyond comprehension.”

“And your vision?”

“Gone, but only for a moment. It eventually returned, as should yours, and hopefully soon.”

“Thank the Gods,” Prompto sighed with relief. “So anyway… I’ll ask again. Where are we, exactly?”

“That, I am not certain.”

“Well, shit.”

“Ah… well,” Ignis added. “I suppose… that’s not entirely true.”

Prompto quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Ignis cleared his throat. “We’re somewhere familiar, yet different.”

Prompto shifted, rubbing at his eyes as if that would clear them faster. He stared in what he assumed was Ignis’ general direction, scrunching his nose in disdain. “Dude. I wasn’t aware that I was dating the Cheshire Cat,” he muttered. “Can you just hurry and spit it out, please?”

Prompto couldn’t see it, but he could practically feel that eyeroll. “We’re in Insomnia,” Ignis said at last. “Supposedly.”

“What do you mean ‘supposedly’?” Prompto leered.

“When your vision returns, you’ll have your answers.”

Insomnia? But how? None of this made any sense.

“Are Noct and Gladio around?” Prompto asked.

“If they are, they’re making themselves scarce. I’m sure wherever they ended up, they’re doing just fine, so don’t fret.”

Prompto patted around, seeking Ignis’ hand, and the other offered it to him with no fuss. “Well, at least we have each other for now,” he murmured, raising it so he could press a kiss to Ignis’ knuckles. “And at least you can see. I was getting worried that I’d end up getting creamed by a daemon or a car or something. I don’t think my legs are working right now.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Prompto,” said Ignis. Prompto felt Ignis’ hand lightly graze his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “That I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

With Ignis’ help, Prompto was able to move from the pavement to a nearby bench, where he ended up dozing against Ignis’ shoulder for a few hours. His body and mind just felt  _ heavy _ , like his veins had been injected with steel, and being awake felt like a chore. The next time he opened his eyes, though, he quickly found that his vision had returned - though he almost wished it hadn’t.

Ignis hadn’t been lying; this was Insomnia, but not how he remembered it.

The world around him was in a haze, like he was viewing it through dirty lenses; colours faded, like it had been put through one of his artistic camera filters. Something just felt  _ off _ , and he couldn’t explain why - it wasn’t any fault of his vision. Not this time. It was like he was in a dream, like he’d stepped into some other plane of existence, where everything was normal, only, it wasn’t. It was bizarre, and as he tried to explain this feeling to Ignis, the man agreed with every word.

Insomnia… was in shambles.

Buildings that once stood tall and proud now were little more than piles of rubble on the streets. Dirt and dust and pebbles covered every inch of the pavement, obscured by discarded signs of former street activity - food carts, cars, bicycles, childrens’ toys - and yet, there wasn’t a sign of life to be found. Seemingly deserted, Insomnia looked to be in the aftermath of a disaster film. 

Was this what the Empire had caused?

And yet, there was no sign of the Empire anywhere.

“Now you see what I mean,” said Ignis, holding Prompto’s hand as they wandered through the disarray. “It is home, but not exactly. I have no doubt in my mind that this is how the city was left after the attack, and yet I cannot say for certain that this is  _ our _ Insomnia.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. “It’s like. Home. But not. Is this some kind of alternate reality, for real?”

“I wish I had the answers for you, Prompto, but alas, I am just as in the dark as you are.”

“Well, damn.” Prompto stopped walking, kicking a stray rock with the tip of his boot. “What do we do now?”

“I’m not sure.” Ignis stopped as well, a pensive expression on his face. “There is no cell reception here. I’ve tried, so I cannot contact the others. For now, I suggest we make way for shelter, gather our bearings, perhaps find something to eat, and rest. Tomorrow, we’ll---”

“Wait, tomorrow?” asked Prompto, wide-eyed and staring at Ignis like he’d grown a second head. “You think it’s safe to stay here that long? Here, in this freaky not-Insomnia where we don’t know if something’s gonna come out of nowhere and blow us up at any minute?”

Ignis clicked his tongue. “If you have another suggestion, Prompto, I would love to hear it. What do you suppose we should do instead, in our current state, where we are hungry, exhausted and still recovering from a powerful daemon spell?” He looked over at Prompto, his brow raised. “You think it safe to leave the city, go back to the woods, perhaps? When darkness falls, and daemons roam, you think it is safe to be vulnerable, with no way to summon our weapons---”

“Wait, wait,” Prompto interrupted with a wave of his hand. “We can’t access the Armiger?”

Ignis looked apologetic, despite this not being his fault at all. “I’m afraid not,” he answered.

“Well,  _ shit _ .”

“So until I figure this out,” Ignis continued, “Please. Let us rest for the night.”

Prompto paused, his shoulders sinking. “...all right,” Prompto sighed. “I trust you. Not like I have much of a choice anyway.”

Ignis smiled a smile that gave a hint of ‘I told you so’. “Thank you, darling.”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me.”

“You never do like when I’m right.”

“Nope.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, you magnificent turd.”

Ignis chuckled, twining his fingers between Prompto’s in a reassuring squeeze. 

In this Insomnia, shelter looked to be far and between. As per Ignis’ suggestion, the pair set their course for the Citadel, the only structure still standing tall and almost pristine, as if it had been placed there through a time portal. It was borderline eerie; how it was practically the same as Prompto remembered it, on that day when they’d said their goodbyes to King Regis and set out on their life-changing roadtrip. He wondered if somehow, this was some sort of metaphor, how home was their constant in the wake of chaos.

“You’re sure that this isn’t gonna be a trap?” Prompto asked nervously, the Citadel not far from where they stood now. “Like, we’re not gonna go in and find ourselves ambushed by a giant group of Magitek soldiers or something?”

“There’s always that possibility,” Ignis answered lightly.

“Cool, thanks,” Prompto grumbled.

“However, you should not fret. I am fully prepared for----”

Ignis stopped short, both speech and his feet, as he raised his arm in front of Prompto to prevent him from taking another step further.

“What? What is it?” Prompto asked.

“Something isn’t---” Ignis began, but was cut short by a roar in the distance.

At the entrance to the Citadel, instead of jarring soldiers powered by technology they’d never truly understand, were daemons; a whole swarm of them, count of fifteen, patrolling at the bottom of the steps as if they had been placed there strategically. Prompto looked to Ignis, confusion scrunching his brow as his lips parted.

“How…” he uttered. “Daemons? Out in daylight? Ignis, now this  _ really _ doesn’t make any damn sense at all.”

“Peculiar,” Ignis hummed. He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “We may have to find an alternate way in.”

“Or,” Prompto said, “we get the hell out of here and find somewhere else to go.”

“Prompto, we’ve been over this. I hardly think leaving Insomnia is the best course of action.”

“So chilling with a bunch of daemons in the  _ daylight _ , which goes against literally  _ everything they are, _ is safer?”

“Of course not,” Ignis sighed. “There has to be a way we can---”

_ Boom _ .

Two sets of eyes looked up just in time to see bombs - a whole flurry of them - being pelted from a high window at the front of the building, over the steps and down to the swarm of daemons below. On impact, the bombs exploded in various elements - fire, ice, lightning - and exterminated the daemons in an instant. Even Ignis was surprised at this development, staring slack-jawed at the sight until one by one, each daemon disappeared in a puff of black wispy smoke, like the sun had suddenly taken effect and sizzled their existence into nothing.

Then, the bombs stopped.

“Uh,” Prompto squeaked. “The hell was that?”

“It looks to me like we may not be alone after all,” Ignis answered. “Perhaps our wayward companions have set up camp in the Citadel long before our arrival.”

“Or! It’s a trap!” Prompto raised his arms and clapped. “Quite frankly, this just plain sucks.”

“Indeed.” Ignis smirked, placing his hands on his hips as he regarded the Citadel. “Shall we head inside?”

“Are you…” Prompto began, staring at Ignis through narrow, incredulous eyes. “... _ enjoying  _ this?”

“Perhaps.”

“ _ Seriously _ ?”

“This is exciting, is it not?” Ignis quipped. “A mystery for us to unravel. We may as well make the best of our unusual situation until we are able to find our way back to our… universe, I suppose is the best descriptor.”

Prompto groaned. “I see your point.”

“I’ll protect you, Prompto.” A gloved hand slid along Prompto’s forearm. “Stay close to me.”

“Thanks, babe,” Prompto smiled.

Prompto may have squeezed Ignis’ hand a little harder than he wanted to admit as they scaled those steps together. He’d longed to return home the second they’d first left Insomnia - he looked forward to the day when everything would be over and they could go back to their lives, rebuild everything they ever knew from the ground up. But this… this wasn’t right. Under different circumstances this would have been the best day of his life, but right now, it just felt like a cruel tease of fate.

Stepping inside the Citadel was even more cruel. The interior was exactly as they had left it - like the exterior of the building, it was untouched, frozen in time. Prompto held his breath, exhaling slowly to calm his nerves as they walked through the halls. He remembered all the times he’d spent here, with Noctis and the others, all the laughs and even the tears they’d shared during their teenage years. It felt so long ago, now, that Prompto had his doubts that any of it had even happened at all.

“I feel like we’re ghosts, haunting these halls,” Prompto said quietly. “You sure we’re not dead, and this isn’t some kind of weird purgatory?”

“I’m sure we’re not,” Ignis answered, “however, I cannot confirm that as my only requirement of heaven is that you are there with me.”

Prompto turned bright red, fidgeting. “H-hey, now’s hardly the time for you to be saying stuff like that.”

“Apologies.”

“Who’s there?” echoed a sudden new voice against the surrounding walls.

Prompto and Ignis stopped walking.

“Wha---” Prompto gasped.

Something about that voice - he wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt strange, leaving behind an icy chill along his spine. What was going on? Who was there? Why did that voice sound bizarrely familiar? Forget them being the ghosts - was this place actually haunted?

Ignis stepped in front of Prompto. “We mean you no harm. We’re merely lost and seeking shelter,” he announced. “There are two of us, and we are unarmed. No tricks.”

Footsteps.

Slow, measured. Confident. The tap of a worn Oxford heel against tiled flooring, long strides with purpose.

And yet, Ignis was stationary.

Prompto stared, wide-eyed, as their suspected apparition came into view at last.

His heart stopped in his chest.

What?

How?

How was this possible?

No, no. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t - there was no possible, logical explanation for this, and yet, the evidence was right in front of his eyes.

Ignis.

Standing not far from where they stood, at the other end of the hall, was Ignis.

And yet it wasn’t Ignis - not quite. This Ignis, if he was in fact, somehow, Ignis, was older, more refined. His hair still pointed north, but was styled much more casual, relaxed, less gel and more swept back with a simple swipe of a palm. His glasses were tinted dark, like sunglasses, and as he slowly approached them, Prompto could see the hint of a scar just below his left eye. Dressed in his usual casual, yet fancy attire, suspenders and dress shirt and all, he was the same as the Ignis he knew, and yet, not.

Prompto’s mouth fell open, trying to find the words, but none came. As if their current reality wasn’t already nonsensical enough, it suddenly got even stranger. There was no doubt about it - it was Ignis,  _ his _ Ignis, but… different?

“Ignis?” Prompto finally managed. “What… what the hell is going on here?”

The other Ignis stopped dead in his tracks. “...Prompto?” he answered.

“Y-yeah,” said Prompto. His heart was beating so loud he could feel it in his ears. “It’s, uh, me. And… you? Another… you...?”

Ignis,  _ his _ Ignis, spoke up at last. “Prompto, stay back,” he warned. “This could very well be a trap, another side effect of the spell we’d endured. We don’t know who or what this… apparition, is, and is capable of.”

The other Ignis glanced around, and for a moment he looked distraught, but didn’t look directly at them. “I assure you, I am no trick, nor an apparition,” he said slowly, regaining his composure. “I’ve been here in what I’d quickly discovered was the Citadel for quite some time now - days, or, at least, as many hours as there are in a single ‘day’ cycle in this… dimension.”

“Dimension,” Ignis repeated. “Do you know exactly where we are?”

“From what I can gather, we are in an alternate reality constructed from daemon magic and memories of those affected by said magic.”

“So we were all blasted by the same kind of magic, and ended up here,” Prompto murmured, more to himself than anything else. “I just got one question for you, though. What the  _ hell _ is going on here? How are there  _ two _ of you, and---”

“I’m still not certain that what we are seeing in front of us is anything but a daemon’s trick,” Ignis reiterated, keeping his stance in front of Prompto in a protective manner. “It shouldn’t be possible for two of the same person to exist on the same plane, regardless of magic.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. “Totally. That’s what I’m thinking. Back to the Future logic, right? But I mean, if we were going by Back to the Future rules, then the two of you seeing each other should have caused some kind of massive collapse in the space-time continuum by now, and like, I’d start disappearing? Wait, the two of you meeting has nothing to do with me being conceived, so I guess  _ I’m _ fine, but you guys, er, guy?  _ You _ , as a person, Ignis, could be in trouble, and---”

The other Ignis cut him off. “Daemon magic works in mysterious ways,” he said calmly. “If both of us have yet to suddenly cease to exist upon our meeting, then I have reason to believe that time paradox rules do not apply here. Therefore, the next item on the list is to determine whether or not our double existence is the result of a trick. Ignis? Would you like to ask me a question, that only I, or rather, we, would know the answer to?”

Ignis fell silent for a moment, lips pursed in deep thought. When he spoke again, it was stern, too serious for what words were to follow. “When we were five years of age,” he began, “what was the name we gave the caterpillar we’d caught in our uncle’s backyard?”

“Remington,” the other Ignis answered instantly. “And tell me, Ignis, when we were  _ ten _ years of age, what was the single thing that happened to us on our birthday that we have yet to tell another soul about?”

Ignis sniffed, nearly wincing as he considered his reply. “We dropped our lucky gil, so we bent down to retrieve it,” he said, moving his hand to his forehead. “And… in front of our uncle’s many, many guests who attended my birthday party, as well as in front of King Regis, the… back seam of our pants split… exposing our underwear to all in attendance.”

Prompto snorted loudly, stifling a laugh. “Holy  _ shit _ ,” he crooned.

“And what comic book character was said underwear branded with?” the other Ignis asked lightly.

“Captain Catoblepas,” Ignis muttered.

The other Ignis smirked. “I believe we have successfully determined that there are no tricks in play.”

“Indeed,” replied Ignis. He sighed, moving his hand away from his face, but there was a small hint of a smile on his lips despite it all.

“Captain Catoblepas,” Prompto said. He snorted again, covering his mouth with his hand. “Oh my  _ god _ , you’re  _ adorable _ .”

The other Ignis was the one who smiled first. It was a fond smile, filled with sincerity, and almost an underlying sadness. “Is that really you, Prompto?” he asked after a moment, delicately, softly.

Prompto looked up at his Ignis. Even if the other Ignis had passed the test, Prompto still wasn’t sure what he could and couldn’t do, or say, around him. He could tell that his Ignis was still wary, too, but his initial apprehension had been sated somewhat, as he then gave him a curt nod, granting Prompto silent permission to proceed. Prompto felt Ignis’ eyes burning holes through him as he stepped around, cautiously approaching the other Ignis.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Prompto replied. “And you’re you. Obviously. But you’re... “ He paused, standing directly in front of the man so he could study his features up close. No matter how long he stared at him… he was Ignis, through and through. And yet… “You’re… different, somehow.”

“How old are you, Prompto?” the man asked.

“How old am I?” Prompto blinked. “Uh, I’m… twenty?”

“Twenty.” The other Ignis’ brow furrowed. “Then that must mean you’re still on the road trip with Noctis and the others.”

“That’s right.” Prompto swallowed a lump in his throat. “And… judging by your  _ really _ random choice of question, I’m gonna assume that you’re… not the same age as the Iggy standing over there.”

“Correct.” The other Ignis stiffened, standing up straight as he took a slow breath. “I’m thirty-seven years of age.”

“Thirty---” Prompto’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait. What? You’re---”

“It would appear that I am in fact a time traveler. Or perhaps it’s the other way around?” The other Ignis brought his hand to his chin pensively. “Regardless of who traveled through the space-time continuum which-way, it’s clear that despite there being two of me in present time, we are in fact two different Ignis’. Or would the term be ‘Ignii’?”

“Fascinating,” present Ignis remarked. “We have much to talk about.”

“Or… not to talk about,” the other Ignis replied. “There is still the possibility of a time paradox occurring. It would be wise to keep details of the future to come scarce, just in case. I would hate to be the cause of something  _ catastrophic _ .”

“Yeah, as if two Iggies in one place at the same time isn’t catastrophic enough,” Prompto muttered.

The other Ignis quirked a small smile. “Come. Follow me. We do in fact have much to talk about - topics that do not pertain to my life fifteen years in the future.”

“Aw, man,” Prompto whined. “You’re still no fun, even fifteen years later.”

“I resent that,” both Ignises retorted in unison.

“Uuuuugggghhhh,” Prompto groaned.

Dual chuckles followed, and the other Ignis turned to head back to the staircase that he descended from. “Follow me.”


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Prompto was unnerved from this whole… development.

He felt like his brain was short circuiting. Ignis. Two of them. Existing in the same place. At the same time.

This _ had _ to be some sort of dream. Though what kind of dream, he wasn’t sure. It was no secret that he was head over heels for his boyfriend - they’d just started dating shortly after they’d first left the Citadel, but they’d been dancing around each other for _ years _ before that so they may as well have been dating ever since they’d first _ met - _ but Prompto couldn’t help but feel on edge around this… _ other _ Ignis.

Ignis from fifteen years in the future.

What kind of person would Ignis be, fifteen years from now?

How did Ignis, fifteen years from now, feel about, well, _ him _?

Were they still together? Were they still in love? Were they still absolutely crazy about each other, the years only serving to make them fall even harder for one another?

Or… had they broken up?

Had they broken up during the road trip? After the deed was done? Years later?

Did they hate each other, fifteen years in the future? Relationship long since expired, love crossing that thin line into resentment?

Prompto felt like he was being swallowed by his uncertainty.

Relationship status aside, Prompto couldn’t stop staring at the Ignis from the apparent future. No doubt about it, though, it was Ignis - _ his _ Ignis - not even time could change his accent, the almost poetic way he spoke, his dimples, his beautiful ash-blond hair, though Prompto swore when the light hit it _ just right _ there were little glimmers of silver strands hidden within. His nose, angled and perfect; dimples as cute as the little dots that decorated his cheeks.

Those glasses, though. Why were they tinted so dark?

And was that actually a scar that he saw, making itself scarce beneath the rim of his lenses?

There were other scars he’d noticed, too, though. One on his lip, one on his eyebrow, one across the bridge of his nose. Scars that _ his _ Ignis, the Ignis of the now, didn’t have.

And as the future Ignis walked, Prompto couldn’t help but notice the subtle tremor in his steps when they rounded a corner in the hall. Couldn’t help but notice when, on the odd occasion, the heel of his shoe would catch a step just a bit too close, and he would quickly right himself before he stumbled.

Ignis from fifteen years in the future…

Had something happened to him?

No one spoke as they made their way to Ignis’ room in the Citadel. Prompto glanced up at his Ignis, the man whose hand he’d been securely holding, and studied his features. 

How did Ignis feel about meeting his future self?

Something about the crinkle in his brow told Prompto that he was deep in thought, constantly analyzing, eyes fixed on the back of future Ignis’ head.

What was he so fixated on?

When they arrived at last, the other Ignis made his way over to the bed, hesitating before his legs touched the edge of the mattress and he slowly sank down upon it.

To Prompto’s surprise, his Ignis spoke first.

“What happened before you were transported here?” he asked, stepping over to the nearby chair beside a desk so he could sit as well. 

Prompto fidgeted awkwardly. The only place available for him to sit was beside future Ignis on the bed, but… even if it was Ignis, he felt… oddly… shy about it, so he opted to remain standing for the time being, arms around himself.

“I was going about my day, as normal, when suddenly I was hit with a debilitating headache,” the other Ignis explained, bringing one leg over the other to get more comfortable, in typical Ignis fashion. “I stumbled and fell, feeling an aura behind my eyes. I worried I was having a stroke, but before I could find help, I blacked out.”

“Oh shit,” remarked Prompto. “That must have been scary.”

“When I came to, I had no idea where I was, but quickly discovered that I was back home in Insomnia. Finding my way to the Citadel was… an adventure, as I was all alone, and with the occasional presence of daemons, despite it always being daylight in this dimension, it posed an even bigger challenge for me.”

“No Armiger,” added Prompto.

The other Ignis hesitated. “Yes,” he replied. “No Armiger.”

“So then what? You made it to the Citadel and you’ve been hanging out here ever since?”

“That’s correct.”

“So to confirm,” present Ignis chimed in, “you were not in any contact with, or even in the vicinity of, a daemon when you became overwhelmed by your headache?”

“Indeed.”

Present Ignis hummed. “Fascinating.”

Prompto chewed on his lip, the heel of his boot tapping against the floor nervously. “So in conclusion, none of what’s going on right now makes any damn sense whatsoever.”

The other Ignis glanced in his direction. “How did the two of you get here?”

“Mindflayers,” present Ignis replied. “We were in the middle of a hunt in the Nebulawood when Prompto and I were hit by an unusual variation of their Mind Break spell. When I woke, Prompto was nowhere to be found, and I couldn’t see. My vision soon returned, and I quickly located Prompto. We’ve been exploring the city ruins ever since, and now we are here.”

“I see,” future Ignis commented. “I’m not well versed on the subject of Mindflayers, but I do know that their magic is extremely powerful and contains properties that are impossible to study. If the spell was as peculiar as you say, then it is very likely that somehow, it was powerful enough to extend past the limitations of time itself, and affected me, in my present time of fifteen years in the future, creating this dimension and the paradox of us all existing in the same space together.”

“Yeah, but what does it _ mean _?” Prompto turned, beginning to pace. “Why are we all here together? What’s the point of it all? And more importantly, how the hell do we break the spell and get back to our respective timelines?”

“That will be our next task,” present Ignis said. “There is bound to be some information within the texts of the Citadel’s archives that may be of use to us. I doubt we are the first to experience such a strange phenomenon; perhaps we can find something relevant enough to apply to our situation.”

The future Ignis pursed his lips. “It would take an eternity to locate anything of use in the archives. I fear it may be a waste of time.”

“Maybe it was just you sifting through books,” Prompto retorted. “But the three of us working together? No sweat! We’ll find _ something _, I’m sure of it!”

Future Ignis’ breath caught in his throat. “I’m afraid I won’t be of any use to you,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean? You’re like, the smartest guy I know. I bet in no time we’ll---”

“Prompto,” his Ignis interrupted. “He’s blind.”

Ice froze Prompto’s spine.

He stopped pacing, and stared at the man he thought he knew, even fifteen years from now, sitting there on the bed. 

Ignis… from the future… was blind?

Oh.

The tinted shades. The hints of scars. His confident, but careful, steps as he walked.

It all made sense now.

“Oh,” Prompto said. He felt himself tremble, the realization running through his veins like an injection. “Oh. Oh, I… I see. Shit, Ignis, I’m…”

“It’s quite all right, Prompto,” future Ignis said after a moment. “I’m quite content with myself and my life, even without sight.”

“But…” Prompto released a breath as he approached the Ignis sitting on the bed. He saw the man tense up, the closer he got to him, and when he sat beside him on the mattress, future Ignis ceased to breathe.

Trembling hands reached upward, hesitating before his fingertips grazed the frames of Ignis’ tinted glasses. The man didn’t make a sound; instead, he just nodded, granting Prompto permission to remove the spectacles from his face.

Evidence of agonizing physical and emotional pain was painted on Ignis’ skin, like a beautiful yet nightmarish work of art.

A large, jagged red scar completely covered Ignis’ left eye, his eyelid closed - Prompto wondered if it was entirely sealed shut - while the other, though unscarred, wasn’t without its damage as well. Gone was the gorgeous emerald green depth of his iris, replaced by a foggy, washed out film. 

He really _ was _ blind.

Emotion hit Prompto like a bus all at once. His stomach twisted and his chest ached, throat constricting as his eyes filled with tears. His hands moved on their own, reaching for the man he loved’s face. Ignis recoiled from the touch at first, a shaky exhale escaping his scarred lips, but he soon accepted, leaning his face towards Prompto’s gentle hands.

“Oh, Ignis,” Prompto whispered, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks. “What _ happened _?”

“Something I would gladly do again, and again, and again, if I so had to,” future Ignis whispered. A tear escaped his unscarred eye, and Prompto felt him tremble beneath his touch.

“Dammit,” Prompto whimpered, cradling Ignis’ head between his palms. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Ignis’. “You’re not gonna tell me… are you?”

“I’m afraid I cannot.”

Prompto glanced over at present Ignis helplessly, searching for answers. The man’s expression was... indecipherable. He showed no emotion, no signs of distress, nothing. It was like he…

He _ knew _.

It was impossible, and yet, somehow, he _ knew _.

“Ignis?” Prompto squeaked.

Present Ignis said nothing.

Future Ignis said nothing.

Prompto, now, had no words to say, either.

Instead, he felt.

Future Ignis’ hands - bare, no gloves, he noted - slid across Prompto’s cheeks. Heat quickly rose on his skin, the man’s fingertips leaving behind a trail of care and affection. Prompto gasped, his heart jolting with love and familiarity and he couldn’t help but move closer, like Ignis was magnetic. Even fifteen years later, Ignis still caressed his face in the same way he did now; like he was cradling the world’s greatest treasure in his grasp.

“It really is you,” the man whispered. “My Prompto. The Prompto in my mind’s eye.”

“Th-the Prompto in your... mind’s eye?” Prompto repeated. Gods, his heart was racing, _ pounding _ in his chest. Was it okay for him to react like this, to another’s touch?

“Yes,” future Ignis replied. “The you as you are now is the Prompto who resides in my mind. I will never know how you truly look in the future; it is the current you… the one at my side right now, that visits my dreams at night.” His fingers swept along the paths below Prompto’s eyes, where his freckles bloomed like fields of flowers. “When I hear your voice, I see your face; sweet and glowing with youthful innocence, freckles bright and stark against your flushed cheeks. The beautiful man I fell in love with.”

Prompto made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. He was stunned; not only from the way the man caressed him, but from the impossibly romantic words that fell from his lips. “Man, you’re gonna... make me cry…” he sniffed. “Well, I… I guess it’s too late f-for that now, but… Ignis, I---”

Future Ignis turned his head in the direction of his other self, the Ignis whose gaze was starkly pointed elsewhere. 

“Treasure every moment you have,” future Ignis uttered under his breath. 

Ignis nodded. “Always,” he replied.

“Never, ever forget the beauty of our love.”

“Simply impossible.”

Prompto, still stunned by this entire moment, whimpered, moving his hands away from future Ignis at last so he could rub at his wet eyes. “C’mon, Iggies, enough already,” he whined. “You know I really can’t handle hearing this kind of stuff from you, and it’s like, twice as bad, because now there’s two of you saying it instead of one.”

“Then with two of us saying so, I do hope you will never forget it,” present Ignis added, to Prompto’s surprise. “Just how loved and precious you are.”

“Quite,” future Ignis agreed.

Prompto turned his face away, just in time to hide the smile that crept onto his face. Ignoring the pounding of his working-overtime-heart, he took a deep breath to relax and attempted to change the subject somewhat. “So, I guess I don't have to ask if we’re still together fifteen years in the future, huh?” he mumbled.

“I take it you haven't yet noticed the solid proof right in front of your eyes?” asked present Ignis.

Prompto felt the bed shift, just a little - future Ignis flinched, or, he assumed he just did.

“What do you mean?” Prompto asked.

Ignis gestured towards his self on the bed, casually. “Take a gander at his left hand.”

Future Ignis had attempted to hide his left hand with his other, but quickly admitted defeat with a sigh. His right hand slid away to reveal a ring, a blue-violet stone embedded within a silver band, nestled snugly on his finger.

_ Ring. A ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. _The word echoed in Prompto’s head like a chant, eyes wide and glued to the forbidden object like he was in a trance. 

Future Ignis moved his hand behind his back, despite the fact that his secret had already been revealed. “Drat,” he muttered, his shoulders sinking. “I accidentally revealed far, far too much about the future. I suppose there’s no way either of you would be able to forget that?”

“Holy shit,” Prompto squeaked. “We’re… we...”

“Yes, Prompto,” confirmed future Ignis.

Prompto’s jaw hit the floor. “We’re _ married _?!”

“Yes,” future Ignis said.

Prompto’s head spun. “When? How?” He scooted closer to future Ignis once more, grinning from ear to ear. He grabbed Ignis’ wrist, bringing his arm back around so he could get a better look at the ring. “Oh man, oh man. Who proposed? Was it me? It was _ totally _me, wasn't it?”

“You know the rules,” future Ignis tutted. He didn’t try to conceal his hand again - there was no point. “I regret that I cannot share any more details. One slip up has occurred and I don't intend to add to it.”

Prompto ran his finger along the jewel, the slight bumps of the stone reaffirming that this was, in fact, a real thing he was seeing with his eyes right now. He and Ignis… They were going to get married. When, he didn't know, but they were going to get married. Just that little tidbit alone was enough to erase his lingering insecurities and his heart just _ soared _ \- but apparently, his Ignis, present Ignis, didn't quite share his sentiments.

Present Ignis remained in his seat, watching future Ignis intently, as if he were deep in thought. Prompto knew that look - brow furrowed, posture stiff - it meant Ignis was busy putting pieces of an invisible puzzle together, and Prompto would never know what the resulting image would look like. Shouldn’t this revelation have given Ignis joy, too? The concrete proof that what was going on between them was _ real, _that it wasn’t just some temporary thing?

Not that Prompto _ ever _ felt like it was a temporary thing. Ignis was the love of his life. _ That _ he knew for sure. And as for Ignis, well. He’d like to believe that the feeling was mutual.

Prompto broke the awkward silence that had fallen over the room with an equally awkward laugh. “Well, that’s good news!” he exclaimed with a wave of his hand. “Ya hear that, Iggy? You’re stuck with me. Sorry, but it looks like you and me were meant to be, babe. Like peanut butter and jelly.”

“As if there was ever a doubt in my mind about that,” his Ignis replied solemnly.

Future Ignis still said nothing, though his hands were in front of him, now. Idly, he turned the wedding ring around, gently running his finger along the stone, much like Prompto had moments earlier.

Prompto cleared his throat. Gods, why was it so awkward? Shouldn’t everyone be happy? He tried, again, to lighten the mood. “So,” he began, a crooked smile on his face as he leaned closer to future Ignis once more. “I know you can’t reveal anything else about the future, but I _ gotta _ know. Am I totally cool and badass in fifteen years?”

Future Ignis’ lips quirked. “Of course,” he replied. “You’ve even grown a little patch of facial hair.”

“Wait, what? Me? Facial hair? _ No way. _”

“I wasn’t so sure of it at first, but I’ve grown accustomed.”

Prompto’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait till Noct hears _ this _ ,” he mused. “He’ll never make fun of me and my blossoming peach fuzz _ ever again _.”

“There will be none of that,” present Ignis spoke at last.

“Eh?”

“For various reasons, it would be wise to keep this entire… experience to ourselves when we return,” he continued. “Explain that we were experiencing a very lucid hallucination the whole time and that we cannot recall any details. Which, could very well be the truth.”

Prompto sighed, visions of his future goatee disappearing like a puff of smoke. “You’re right,” he grumbled. “Of course.”

Present Ignis then rose to his feet. “Shall we proceed? There is much to do and for all we know, we may have little time to solve this predicament of ours.”

Future Ignis nodded, retrieving his glasses so he could put them back on the bridge of his nose once more. “No need to be so hasty,” he said. “First order of business: the two of you must be terribly hungry.”


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Future Ignis’ cooking was  _ to die for _ .

Prompto felt like he was Kirby, inhaling plate after plate of food in record time. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell of five star restaurant-quality food began to waft out from the kitchen, the two Ignises working in unison to prepare them all a meal. When was the last time they’d eaten? Back at Wiz’s? Who  _ knew _ how long ago  _ that _ was, at this point. No wonder he was starving.

“Oh, man,” Prompto groaned happily, slumping back against his chair. “That. Was. Amazing.”

Both Ignises had the same small smile on their faces, watching Prompto fondly. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” future Ignis replied. “It’s been awhile since I was able to prepare such an intricate meal. No thanks to my past self, of course.”

“Surely it makes all the difference in the world to prepare a meal alongside someone who actually knows what they’re doing in the kitchen,” present Ignis remarked.

Prompto snorted. “I may be blissed out in a food coma now, but don’t think I didn’t catch that subtle burn.”

Both Ignises chuckled at the same time, and that in turn made Prompto laugh. “Dang. Stereo surround sound Iggy,” he mused. “Seriously, though. I feel so spoiled. Iggy’s cooking is always amazing, but like, the power of  _ two _ Iggies working together as some sort of Master Chef Duo is like, God-tier cooking. Damn.”

Future Ignis rose from his seat, his fingers sliding along the table until they met with his plate. “I’m flattered,” he said lightly. “If you’re both finished, I'll go ahead and do the dishes. In the meantime, why don't the two of you head for the archives? I'll catch up shortly.”

“Oh no you don't,” Prompto scolded. “You're not gonna cook  _ and _ clean.” He stood up as well, snatching his plate and utensils, followed by present Ignis’ dishes. “I'm the one who totally pigged out on your delicious grub. The least you can do is let me take care of the chaotic aftermath that’s the kitchen and dishes. That kinda thing doesn’t require chef’s training.”

Both Ignises began to protest in unison, but Prompto was quick to silence them both. “Nuh-uh-uh. Nope. Sorry. You always work so damn hard. Let me help for once.” He took future Ignis’ dishes, too, stacking them beneath the others in his hands.

“At least allow me to keep you company in the process?” future Ignis asked innocently.

Present Ignis smiled. “Very well,” he conceded. “I will see the both of you shortly.”

And with that, Prompto found himself all alone.

With a stranger.

Well, no. Not entirely a stranger.

Ignis, his future husband. Ignis, as he will be, fifteen years from now. Future Ignis, future Prompto’s husband.

Suddenly, for reasons he wasn’t even sure about, Prompto became very, very nervous.

He bit his tongue and headed for the kitchen, hearing the sound of future Ignis’ shoes trailing after him.

“So, you're  _ really _ not gonna fill me in on the deets about the future, huh?” Prompto asked while he scrubbed at a pan, tiny white bubbles floating around him like planets in orbit.

“No,” answered future Ignis. The man stood not far from him, leaning against the nearby counter. Even from a mere glance, Prompto could tell that it was taking every last bit of self-restraint for Ignis not to give in and help him clean. Future Ignis was awfully crafty, very efficient, despite his blindness. How long had it taken for Ignis to, well,  _ learn _ everything again, how to live, without the aid of sight? Without the use of a cane, even?

And just... what  _ happened _ ? It was going to loom over Prompto’s head the entire time he was stuck here, and unfortunately, it was the one thing he knew Ignis wouldn’t slip up on. The ring was discovered by pure accident, but something this important, this serious - there was no chance.

_ Gods _ , though. He wanted to know.

He hoped he’d been there for him, whenever and whatever had happened.

“Not even something tiny?” Prompto pressed. “Itsy bitsy, teeny-weeny?”

“No,” future Ignis replied.

Prompto smirked, continuing on anyway. “Is Gladio still ripped in the future, or did he totally let himself go?” he asked playfully, reaching for the large pot on the stove next.

Ignis’ lips quirked upwards. “If he has, he would certainly make it a point not to tell me.”

“What about me? I mean, I work hard for my hot bod and all, but married life, y’know?  _ You  _ definitely kept up your fitness regime though,  _ damn.”  _ Prompto whistled, hoping to get a laugh out of him.

Ignis shifted from one foot to the other, and when Prompto shoulder checked him, he saw that Ignis’ cheeks had turned a warm shade of pink. “Are you trying to tell me that even fifteen years later, my physical appearance is still favorable to you?” Ignis murmured.

“Favorable?” Prompto scoffed, setting his sponge down in the sink. “Dude, more than favorable. You're like, hot, always, but  _ you  _ you? I think the expression ‘aged like a fine wine’ was invented specifically with Ignis Scientia in mind.”

The silence that fell over the room right then served as a grim reminder that Prompto had gotten far too casual with the man; he hadn’t been talking to Ignis -  _ his _ Ignis - and the realization made him tense up.

It was true; this Ignis wasn’t ‘his’ Ignis. And yet, when Prompto turned to stare at the older man, the Ignis of the future, he stood in the same stance  _ his _ Ignis did when he was flustered; a hand to his chin, turned slightly away. Cheeks blushed bright pink, quickly spreading to his ears like paint in water as a small breath escaped him, like a secret.

This man…  _ technically _ …  _ was _ Ignis. 

_ His  _ Ignis. In fifteen years. 

Was it really necessary to act differently around him? They were the same person. He was Ignis. And this Ignis still loved Prompto, fifteen years from now.

Was it bad to flirt with him? If they were the same person, then why did it feel like he’d just done something wrong? This whole time travel thing was making Prompto’s head hurt, in more ways than one.

“Sorry,” Prompto said quickly, deciding that it was probably best if he turned back to his stack of dishes. He reached for the sponge again, releasing a puff of air. “It's probably hella weird to be hit on by a younger version of me. I'm totally weird compared to older, refined, cooler future Prompto with the luxurious facial hair, right? Like, you’re probably thinking I’m super immature and annoying because I just, can’t stop talking, huh?”

“Not true at all,” Ignis replied easily. “You are still you, Prompto. No matter what life throws your way… you are you, and my love for you has never faded. Not in the slightest. One could say that my flame still burns just as brightly for you as it did fifteen years ago.”

Now, it was Prompto’s turn to be bright red.

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ignis affirmed.

Prompto slowly stopped scrubbing the plate he was working on, moving his hands out from the water. “Hey, so,” he began, drying his hands on the small nearby towel. “I know you can’t talk about the future, but… was… our wedding amazing?” 

“Simply the best day of my life,” Ignis replied instantly.

“Did you shower me with roses and stuff?”

“Hundreds.”

Prompto smirked. He remained standing in front of the sink, his back facing Ignis. He didn’t dare look at the other man right now, scared that he would ruin the moment if he did. “Did I trip and fall flat on my face, breaking my nose before I even made it down the aisle?”

Ignis laughed. “Oh, yes. The blood spatter became part of the decor. Lucky that the colour scheme of our wedding was red.”

Prompto knew he should stop, but with Ignis actually willing to talk about it, he couldn’t help but dig for more details... even if everything Ignis told him was made up on the fly to humour him. “Didja… dip me… real low… for our first kiss as a married couple?” he asked slowly.

“So low, you nearly touched the floor,” Ignis breathed.

Prompto wasn't sure when Ignis got so close, but soon two familiar arms slipped around his middle from behind, gently coaxing until his back met with Ignis’ front.

“W-wow,” Prompto whispered, his heartbeat deafening him. He leaned back against Ignis, unable to help but think that he was just so… so…  _ warm _ . “I'm… a lucky guy.”

“Only one luckier would be I,” Ignis whispered in his ear.

The strong embrace of vigilant arms, coupled with the gentle flutter of hot breath against his skin made goosebumps erupt along Prompto’s neck and arms, his body giving an involuntary shudder. He felt weak, like he’d just been seduced by a daemon, and maybe he had - and he didn’t rightfully care, because before he could stop himself, Prompto turned his head and pressed his lips firmly to a set he knew like the back of his hand. 

Ignis’ arms tightened around him, and their kiss deepened. 

Kissing future Ignis was everything he already knew - familiar, safe. Like coming home. Prompto turned to face him properly, Ignis leaning down just enough to accept Prompto’s arms linking around his neck, as if he were expecting them. He felt his backside bump against the counter, and Ignis pressed to him - their hips meeting, and  _ gods _ did Prompto _ love _ every second of this and did he  _ ever _ want this to never, ever end - but surprisingly, it was Ignis who pulled away first, ending their heated kiss with an abrupt gasp of air.

And when their lips parted, so did the arms from around his waist.

“My apologies, Prompto,” Ignis spoke quickly, stepping away from him. “I should have asked for your permission first.”

Prompto felt like he’d just run a marathon - he was breathless and sweating and his heart was racing faster than his mind. “Dude, what? Why are you apologising?” he retorted. “I was the one who kissed you first.”

Ignis’ hands disappeared into his pockets, wearing his shame as deeply as the tinted lenses on his face. His head tilted south, and Prompto almost felt sorry for him. “Perhaps, but it was I who touched you without asking beforehand.”

“Y-yeah, sure, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t…” Prompto paused. “Y’know. Wanted.” 

Ignis let out a breath.

“I mean… we’re, like… ‘married’, right?” Prompto continued, tapping his fingers against the countertop. “And we’re together now. Like, me and you, in my present time. So it’s not like touching and kissing each other is like… bad?”

Ignis looked almost… ashamed, right then. If his cheeks hadn’t already been flushed, Prompto was sure he would have turned bright red in that moment. “Even so,” Ignis replied, “it still feels… odd, to partake in such things, as if I am wooing another’s partner.”

Prompto crossed his arms. “But dude. You’re him,” he noted. “In case you didn’t get the memo. Like, you guys are, uh,” Prompto paused, recalling the feeling of Ignis’ hips against his own. “... _ definitely, _ the same.” 

“Yes, but.” Ignis cleared his throat. “Regardless, there’s also the matter of  _ manners _ and all that - I always strive to court you properly, Prompto.”

Prompto laughed. “But, like, you already have me? You don’t need to court me. Even if you aren’t like, uh, ‘my’ you.”

Ignis sighed. He ran his fingers through his wispy hair, and Prompto liked the way it sort of bounced back in retaliation. “Every day I’ve treated you as if I were courting you for the first time,” Ignis said. “Even...years and years later, Prompto. You… are precious, and… deserve to be treated as such.”

“Gods, you’re still such a romantic,” Prompto mumbled. Just as his heart had started to calm down, there it was, pounding again.

“Of course,” Ignis said matter of factly.

“You know I love it, though.”

“I do.”

Prompto swallowed, a small smile curled on his lips. As intrigued as he was, he felt like it wouldn't be a good idea to indulge in this subject any further. So for now, he directed his attention back to the remainder of the dirty dishes stacked beside the sink, washing them as diligently as he could. 

Future Ignis did have a point, though. It was weird - for some reason, kissing him  _ did _ feel like cheating, even though technically, that wouldn’t make sense. Was it really cheating if you were kissing the same person, though a different  _ version _ of the person? Then again, Prompto doubted that there were many others who’d ever find themselves in a similar predicament. Other than kindred time travelers, of course.

Secretly, though, Prompto couldn’t deny the thrill he felt when this Ignis kissed him. It was the same, yet  _ different _ .  _ Exciting. _ Like future Ignis was magnetic and pulling him in.

_ Gods,  _ everything was  _ so weird _ .

After he finished cleaning up the kitchen while he and future Ignis exchanged awkward small talk, the two of them headed down to the archives, where present Ignis was to be waiting for them. As they walked side by side, Prompto resisted the urge to take the taller man’s hand, unable to keep himself from sneaking wayward glances at him now and again. It was  _ difficult _ , Prompto found, to keep his mind occupied with thoughts that didn’t involve how velvety future Ignis’ lips felt against his own; how  _ desired _ he felt when the man from the future pinned him up against that counter. Prompto let out a nervous breath as butterflies fluttered around in the pit of his stomach, and tried to act as casual as possible.

He often had the tickly butterflies in his stomach around  _ his _ Ignis, too, at  _ least _ once daily. But for some reason, he felt like he’d just fallen in love for the first time all over again.

Was what happened back there  _ really _ okay? Or  _ had _ it been cheating?

_ Dammit. _

This. Was. Weird.

“Hello,” greeted present Ignis as they entered the large expanse of a room. “Come, join me.”

The archives were, essentially, what one would come to expect from archives - tall shelves filled to the brim with books, all the way to the ceiling; boxes and boxes of  _ stuff _ haphazardly left all over the place. And most of all, it was just plain musty and dusty in there. Ignis sat at one of the tables, a large stack of varying textbooks at his side. Encyclopedias, research journals, old magazines, ancient bestiaries. Prompto wondered if any of them would even be useful. 

“Ugh, high school flashbacks,” Prompto muttered, guiding future Ignis over to the table so they could both sit down. “I feel like I’ve been dragged into an impromptu study session.”

“In some ways, you have,” present Ignis replied. He lifted the bestiary, sliding it across the table in Prompto’s direction. “Carefully read the magic spell section, won’t you, please?”

Prompto groaned, opening up the book. “Yes, dear.”

“A pity there are no reference materials available in braille,” future Ignis mused.

“Yeah. A pity. Jerk,” Prompto retorted, giving him a playful nudge of his elbow. “So what’re you gonna do then, huh? Supervise us like a brooding librarian? Make sure we’re not slacking off, click your tongue in disapproval when we start getting bored and throw paper balls all over the place?”

“I’ll make sure to locate a ruler so I can bang it against the side of the table as necessary,” future Ignis replied lightly. “And no gum shall be placed under the tables, please.”

Prompto snorted. Present Ignis glanced up from his textbook, eyes darting between the two of them.

“What’s up, Iggy?” Prompto asked.

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking,” the man replied, then returned to his book.

Prompto chewed on his lip.

Oh, no. He knew what  _ that  _ meant. That look. That ‘ah, nothing’. With Ignis, nothing was just  _ nothing _ .

Ignis was…  _ observing _ .

Did... Ignis, somehow, know that he’d kissed the other Ignis earlier? Could he smell guilt? Could he, just,  _ sense _ it?

Of course he could. After all, he was  _ Ignis _ \- and Ignis knew  _ everything. _

Oh, Gods. He’d cheated on him.

Prompto spent the next few hours trying to focus on his research, when really he was worrying himself into exhaustion. That, coupled with the food coma that delicious meal had put him in and the rest of the day’s events, made the pull of fatigue irresistible. He ended up gracefully faceplanting into the pages of his book with a loud snore, signifying that he was one hundred percent  _ done _ .

-♊-♊-♊-

When Prompto’s eyes opened again, he briefly forgot where he was. 

He was somewhere comfy, though - warm. Safe. He was in a bed, the most comfortable bed he’d ever been in, probably. It sure as heck was nothing like those awful camper beds they'd had to sleep in now and again on the road. 

He pressed his face to the pillow and breathed in. The scent of soap and honey filled his senses and he couldn't help but groan happily.

Wherever he was, it smelled like Ignis, so it was  _ good _ , he decided. 

A feather light touch to his hair reminded him that he wasn't alone.

“Good morning, darling,” said Ignis. 

Prompto smiled crookedly, rolling over into his back. Sitting next to him was Ignis,  _ his _ Ignis, hair sleep-mussed with a smile of his own to match.

“Hey, handsome,” Prompto greeted. He yawned, rolling closer so he could rest his head in Ignis’ lap. “I’m in your bed, right? Gotta say, this is like, the best bed, ever? How  _ dare _ you hold out on me by never inviting me up here before we left the Citadel.”

“Keep in mind that at that time we were not yet romantically involved,” Ignis replied smoothly. ”It wouldn't have been proper.”

Prompto snorted. “Yeah, as if I would have hesitated to dive into your bed like a pool if you’d asked me.”

“Again, it wouldn't have been  _ proper _ ,” said Ignis, pushing the soft blond bangs from Prompto’s ocean eyes. “I had every intention to court you properly, and I still do. You are precious, you understand.”

Prompto stiffened, an odd sense of déjà-vu washing over him. Why did it feel like he’d only  _ just _ heard Ignis say that?

Oh. Because he did. 

Prompto giggled, and he loved the beautiful smile that bloomed on Ignis’ face as a result.

“What?” Ignis inquired, grinning. “You don’t believe me?”

“Well, no, but that’s not why I’m laughing. It’s just that the other Iggy totally said the same thing yesterday. Like, almost word for word.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Talk about déjà-vu.”

“Well, we are one and the same. You must be having plenty of déjà-vu moments since we’ve arrived here.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“So the me of fifteen years in the future expressed desire to court you?”

“Er,” Prompto tensed. “Maybe?”

Ignis’ brow raised.

And there was the guilt again. He couldn't ignore it, couldn't extinguish it - he had no choice but to  _ acknowledge  _ it, and  _ gods _ , it was the  _ worst _ .

“I, uh,” Prompto began. He moved his arm up onto Ignis’ knee, hiding his face against it. “I have something… I gotta tell you, Ignis.”

He felt Ignis’ leg tense beneath him. “What is it, Prompto?” Ignis asked.

Prompto took a deep breath, then exhaled.  _ Well, here goes nothing _ .

“I. Kinda. Kissed him? Future Iggy?” he stated innocently. “In the kitchen, when I was washing dishes? It was like, a one time thing, I swear, and I don’t even know  _ how _ it happened, and----”

Prompto’s ears were met with soft laughter.

He crinkled his nose and looked up at his partner, eyes narrowed. “Hey!” he accused. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because,” Ignis said through remnants of a chuckle, moving a hand to his mouth. “You say this as if you’ve two-timed me.”

“But I  _ did! _ ”

“How is it two-timing if you, technically, kissed me?”

“But it  _ wasn’t _ you,” Prompto whined. “I mean. Yeah. It was you. But it wasn’t  _ you  _ you, so---”

“Prompto,” Ignis began, running his fingers along Prompto’s cheek. “I will not deny that this…  _ predicament  _ we’ve suddenly found ourselves in is anything but bizarre. However, I believe I can say with confidence that the other man we’ve met here in this dimension is without a shred of doubt, me. Not just because he knows things about me I’ve never told even you, but also because interacting with him, just  _ seeing  _ him standing in front of me, gives me a feeling I’ve never experienced before.”

“Oh?”

Ignis paused. “It’s… hard to explain, but it’s quite literally an ‘out of body’ experience.”

“Huh.” Prompto moved his hand to Ignis’, taking it in his own.

“It’s like I am interacting with my subconscious, my very  _ brain _ , outside the confines of my mind. Do you know what I mean?”

“Er, not really, but I think I get it.” Prompto glanced at Ignis’ hand, playing with the man’s fingers idly. “Soooo in essence, what you’re trying to say is that it’s like you’re in a sci-fi movie where you’ve been cloned and it’s  _ really _ goddamned weird.”

“Correct.”

“Interesting.”

“Quite, yes.”

“So,” Prompto said, shifting so he was lying on his back, looking up at Ignis, “you really, truly don’t care that I smooched your clone?”

Ignis chuckled. “It is strange to admit that I may have felt a pang of jealousy at your confession, but then the logical part of my mind told me that I technically have nothing to be jealous of.”

“What if I told you he was a good kisser?”

“Mmm, well, then wouldn’t that in actuality be a compliment?”

“Like,  _ reaaaaal _ good.”

Ignis smirked, thumbing Prompto’s bottom lip. “I wonder what other things I’ll be good at, fifteen years from now,” he murmured in that husky, deep voice that never failed to give Prompto chills in all the right ways. 

Prompto felt his cheeks warm. He gave Ignis’ thumb a playful nip, catching the fabric of his glove between his teeth. “But you’re already, like, max level good at like, everything,” he grumbled.

“Surely not  _ everything _ ,” Ignis teased, rubbing at Prompto’s lip before he caught his chin in his grasp. “I’m sure there are  _ plenty _ of things you and I have yet to discover about one another that only time would allow.” Gloved fingers traced a line beneath Prompto’s chin and down his throat, and that was  _ it. _

A shaky breath and a pleasant stirring downstairs made Prompto nearly panic, shifting his legs on the bed. “Okay, we gotta stop this like, right now,” he huffed, swatting Ignis’ hand away, “or else I’m gonna get  _ super damn horny _ and it’s gonna be  _ really _ awkward for me and probably you, too, when Stupeo Number Two comes back.”

Ignis cleared his throat. To Prompto’s surprise, he actually stopped, sliding his hand back into his hair. “Apologies, darling,” he said softly.

“Anyway!” Prompto gasped with a forced laugh. “Speaking of your attractive doppelganger, where the heck did he go, anyway?”

“He’s left for a moment to shower,” Ignis explained. “When he returns, we will have breakfast, and then get back to work on our research.”

_ Shower _ .

“Oh man, oh man, a  _ shower _ ,” Prompto practically groaned, slinging his arm across his face. “I could _ really _ go for one right about now.”

“There’s nothing stopping you.” Ignis cleared his throat again, then paused. “Would…you object if I joined you?” he added after a moment.

“Heck yeah, water conservation even in a weird alternate dimension,” Prompto grinned. Though, something about Ignis’ hesitance right then told him that his suggestion wasn’t, in fact, in favour of water conservation in a weird alternate dimension.

He looked up at Ignis. Ignis was doing his best to seem disinterested, his ‘casual’ face, aka, his resting bitch face, but Prompto knew better. “You know that it’s  _ just _ gonna be a shower, right?” said Prompto suspiciously.

“Of course,” Ignis replied. His green gaze was on the wall, just beyond Prompto. “What else would it be?”

“Hmmm,” Prompto hummed. “I know that look.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Prompto slowly sat up at last, moving his hands to Ignis’ chest. “You’ve got ‘ulterior motives’ written all over your face.”

“I assure you, I am innocent.”

“Bull _ shit,”  _ Prompto gave his chest a little shove. “You’re totally---”

Ignis’ façade broke, his mouth betraying him as he finally smirked. “I’d like to request my right to a lawyer.”

“Sorry, but that’s not gonna do you any good. You, Mr. Scientia,” Prompto accused, sliding his arms around his neck as he pressed against him, “are going  _ straight _ to jail.”

“Goodness me,” Ignis murmured. “To think I’ve become nothing but a common criminal. I wonder if there is a certain someone’s influence to blame for my downfall?” 

Prompto felt hands on his backside and he practically whined.  _ Gods _ it really  _ had  _ been too long since the two of them had time to be alone. “ _ You,  _ are the nastiest man I know. Sure you act all prim and proper, but I know the truth. If anything, I should be blaming  _ you _ for ruining  _ my  _ innocence,” Prompto blamed, leaning in close.

Closer, closer,  _ so  _ close he could practically  _ taste _ those perfectly shaped lips--

And right then, the door opened.

“Good morning,” announced future Ignis. He stepped inside the room, raising his hand in greeting. “Ignis, would you care to join me for a moment? I could use a set of eyes and another set of hands, if you would.”

Prompto scrambled away from Ignis like the man was made of fire, virtually pushing him off the bed. “Oh hey, Ignis! Fancy meeting you here!” he yelped with an awkward laugh. It was silly, he knew, to even react to this, because it wasn’t like future Ignis could even  _ see _ them, and if he could, all he would have seen was himself, kissing his husband.

“Of course,” present Ignis replied. He gave Prompto a look, then composed himself as he moved off the bed and rose to his feet. “I’ll be back shortly, Prompto. The bathroom is just around the corner down the hall.”

“Thanks,” Prompto replied. He took a deep breath. “Uh, see you guys in a bit.”

He watched as his lover, times two, left the room together, and he cursed under his breath.

_ What the hell have I gotten myself into _ , he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

When Prompto returned to Ignis’ bedroom after his shower, he was greeted by the sight of his partner and his future husband standing in front of the open window, a pile of newly-prepared elemental bombs stacked on the chair at their side.

“Wha---” Prompto began.

“Ah, welcome back, Prompto,” said future Ignis, nodding in his general direction before his fingers sought out and curled around an ice bomb, then pelted it out the window like a baseball.

“Uh,” Prompto continued.

“Fancy a throw?” present Ignis asked casually.

“Um,” Prompto said again. He laughed nervously, the bizarre sight catching him by surprise. “What’s going on, guys?”

“Daemons,” future Ignis explained. “On occasion, they gather at the foot of the Citadel steps. Magic seems to do the trick, as sunlight evidently does not.”

“Oh,” Prompto replied. It took a moment before realization hit him, remembering what he and Ignis saw when they first saw the building. “Oh! Right! We saw daemons at the Citadel, and a crapload of bombs being flung at them out of nowhere. So that was you?”

“Correct,” future Ignis said.

“Damn. Lucky you got supplies here, huh? No Armiger and all.”

“I assisted with making these,” present Ignis added. “We should have plenty for the remainder---” he paused to throw two bombs of his own, “---of our time here. I should hope.”

“Good to know. My knights in shining armor.” Prompto approached the chair, picking up a bomb of his own. It was rare that he ever had the chance to use these in battle, so it was a little exciting to finally have a go at it. Winding his arm, he aimed out the window and threw the bomb as hard as he could, delighting in the echoing  _ boom _ that resulted when it made contact with the unruly daemons below.

“Heck yeah!” he hooted, fist pumping in the air.

“Well done, Prompto,” future Ignis praised, holding his fist out in Prompto’s direction. 

Prompto beamed, grinning from ear to ear. “Thanks, babe.”  _ Bump _ went their fists, and he turned to offer the same to present Ignis.

Present Ignis didn’t appear to partake in the giddy atmosphere. Instead, he had that _look_ on his face - it wasn’t quite the ‘resting bitch face’, no, but if you blinked you’d miss the difference - it was one of disinterest, one that spoke volumes of _disengaged_, like he’d completely peaced out of the situation. One that Prompto only knew as…

...jealousy?

Ignis… was jealous?

But… why?

“I shall take my leave and start on breakfast,” present Ignis announced. “Do let me know if you require anything else from me.”

Several long strides of legs later, he was gone.

What was even going on anymore? Prompto made a small sound, his eyes darting over to future Ignis as anxiety flooded his chest. 

Future Ignis had his ear turned towards the open window. His lips were parted slightly, that little crease between his brows prominent as he listened. Observed. A few strands of hair had fallen from his neatly swept-back hair, and Prompto could see a few smudges on his tinted glasses, left behind by a miscalculated fingertip.

Ignis… was gorgeous. 

“I do believe that was the last of them,” Ignis said quietly. Closing the window and drawing the curtains closed, he then reached for the back of the chair and slid it close to the wall. When he rubbed his hands together, there was a momentary glint on the wall - his wedding ring, catching the hint of sunlight that peered through the gap between the curtains.

Prompto’s stomach twisted.

“I told Ignis that I kissed you,” he blurted out.

Future Ignis paused, then gave him an inquisitive look. “Oh?” he asked. “And what did he say?”

“He, uh. He said he doesn't care.”

Ignis gave him another look; he didn’t need to wear untinted lenses for Prompto to see he was perplexed. “If that is the case, then why tell me this?”

“I… don't know,” Prompto admitted. He sighed, fidgeting with his hip chain. “He's kinda acting...weird. Did.. something happen between you two while I was in the shower?”

“Not that I can recall,” Ignis answered easily. ”We chatted while we worked, but not about anything of interest. I imagine he is just struggling with the situation; being trapped here with no answers, just the same as I.”

_ Trapped. _

_ No answers. _

“Hey, can I ask you something?” asked Prompto. “And can you answer honestly?”

“As long as it does not pertain to the future, then certainly.”

Prompto scrunched his fingers around his hip chain, then released it. “Tell me the truth,” he started, walking over to the bed. He dropped against it with a huff, then flopped backward so he was lying on the blankets. “Do you truly, honestly, think that we’ll find a way out of here, or are we gonna be stuck here forever?”

There was a pause. Prompto couldn’t see him - he was staring up at the ceiling - but he could hear Ignis’ footsteps.

“As of right now,” Ignis answered, “I have to admit that it is looking… grim.”

“Great.”

“However, that does not mean that there is not a solution in sight. Just be prepared for the possibility of being here for longer than you originally thought.”

Prompto blew a reverberating sigh between his lips. “I mean, I’ll be honest, being stuck in a universe where it’s just me and Ignis, and like, _two_ Iggies…it’s not the worst fate in the world. But… we’ve… all got lives to get back to, y’know?” 

Ignis stopped walking, not far from the bed.

“Like, what’s even going  _ on _ in my universe?” Prompto continued. “How much time has passed? Are Gladio and Noct freaking out? Do they even know we’ve disappeared, or is it gonna be a like, blip in time situation, where months pass here but in our reality it’s only been seconds?”

“That, I cannot say for sure,” said Ignis.

“And like, I bet the other Prompto, the older cooler one, is busy freaking the hell out right now. I know if my Ignis suddenly disappeared without a trace, I’d be quite literally worried sick. I’ve lost my lunch over far less important things than  _ that _ .”

More footsteps, this time, in the opposite direction. And then, there was nothing.

Prompto rolled onto his side. His eyes found Ignis immediately; he had returned to the window, back facing him, staring hard at the curtains despite not being able to see a thing. His hands gripped the windowsill, and Prompto could hear a heavy breath.

“Ignis?” he asked nervously.

“Call me selfish, but I wouldn’t mind indulging in this reality for as long as time will allow,” Ignis uttered in a breath.

“Iggy?” Prompto said again. Something about the air in the room… he wasn’t sure what it was, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Did you say something?”

“Ah, nothing, Prompto,” Ignis answered. He released his grip on the windowsill. “I was merely suggesting that we should consider getting our day started. The sooner we find a solution, the sooner our lives can go back to normal.”

“Oh, uh. Sure,” replied Prompto. He stared at Ignis, at the back of his head. His posture was stiff, uncomfortable, like he was afraid to move.

Something… wasn’t quite right.

Both versions of his partner were acting strangely - or was it just his imagination? 

He didn’t know anymore.

Maybe this place was starting to take its toll on everyone.

What was going to happen to them?

-♊-♊-♊-

The days began to blend into each other.

Prompto had long since lost track of the time. Every day was the same: wake up, shower, have breakfast, go to the archives, bomb some daemons, traverse out into the ruins of Insomnia to try and find something,  _ anything  _ that would help point them in the right direction. They’d even tried to devise a plan where they would  _ lure _ daemons out, specifically to find a way to conjure a Mindflayer into existence, as perhaps the cure for their conundrum was to be blasted with the same spell that had brought them here to begin with. But so far, they’d had no luck in any avenue.

The three of them were beginning to hit their limit, physically and mentally.

Prompto did his best to keep his chin up, to not give in to the despair of hopelessness and uncertainty they all felt, but it was so, so difficult. Even Ignis, both of them, were having difficulty maintaining their facade of confidence, and whenever Prompto asked them, “We’re gonna get out of here, right?”, their positivity slowly sapped from each response they gave.

That ‘evening’, they’d had a rather harrowing run-in with a surprise group of daemons in the city. Prompto had trailed behind the long-legged pair, his mind wandering as aimlessly as his feet, and while he was distracted, he ended up getting snagged by a daemon hiding in the shadows and thrown down the street. It had happened so quickly that no one had a chance to even react - and while the Ignis team managed to exterminate the offending daemon afterwards, Prompto suffered minor injuries, having to sit out of battles for the remainder of their excursion. Despite Prompto’s insistence that he was  _ fine, stop fussing _ , he had to deal with both Ignises arguing over who got to carry him home.

Secretly, Prompto liked the attention.

_ Gods _ , he was sore, though.

When they returned to the Citadel, present Ignis gave him a thorough look-over, making sure that he wasn’t seriously hurt. Thankfully he wasn’t, as far as Ignis could tell, just a few bumps and probably some bruises - but Prompto knew that to Ignis it was still the equivalent of being hit by a bus, so he mentally prepared himself to be fussed over for the rest of the week, probably.

Prompto crawled into bed and intended not to move for the rest of the evening. He was so, so tired after everything that had happened that day, and just mentally exhausted from their entire situation as a whole. 

And when he was  _ really _ tired, his mind tended to go places it shouldn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was just the effects of his entourage’s morale lowering with every day that passed, or if something was actually physically changing in this universe itself, but everything just felt so…  _ heavy _ .

He missed Noctis. Gladio, too, of course - but Noctis was his best friend. He owed a lot to Noctis. So, so much, and it was just  _ weird _ not to talk to him for more than a day. To be joined at the hip for years and then not be able to do so much as text each other… it was just… lonely.

Were Noctis and Gladio faring okay without them? Gladio was Noctis’ shield. It was literally his job to protect him. But could he, really, all alone?

_ Yeah, as if I could do any better _ , thought Prompto.

Did they even care that he was gone? Ignis, yeah, his absence would leave a canyon-sized hole in the group. Ignis was the glue that held them all together, most days, and not to mention the brains of the operation. But what about himself? What did he have to offer everyone?

Nothing.

He was clumsy. He wasn’t that strong. Or smart, either. He wasn’t as quick to react as he should be. After all, he was a liability in battle, most of the time. He was the whole reason why they’d ended up in this mess to begin with.

Maybe… it was better that he was trapped in this place.

“Are you all right, Prompto?”

Prompto looked up from the pillow he’d buried his face in. He made eye contact, well, sort of, with future Ignis, who was currently standing by the window, which Prompto had noted was his unofficial post. The man looked concerned, brow furrowed in that little pinch above the bridge of his nose, lips a thin line. 

“Yeah, I’m doing okay,” Prompto lied. “Why?”

“I just heard you sigh and wondered---”

“Sorry.” Prompto sighed, as if on cue. “I’m good, Iggy. Really.”

“I know my past self examined you already, but was there something else I could do for your pain?”

Prompto smiled faintly. “Dude, I’m good. I promise,” he insisted. “I’m not even that sore anymore. That potion you gave me more than helped already. I’m more just… tired. Like, utterly spent. I don’t think my brain’s working anymore. The three of us, we’ve all been pushing ourselves really far these last few days. You’ve gotta be exhausted too, right?”

Future Ignis made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. “A little,” he admitted.

Prompto looked over at present Ignis on the other side of the room. The man sat at the desk, deep in thought as he mulled over the moderate stack of notes that he’d compiled during his study sessions in the archives. Present Ignis had been oddly silent since yesterday, and part of him wondered if somehow, he’d made him upset. 

Prompto sat up slowly, carefully, inwardly wincing when he felt a pull on his tired muscles. He scooched closer to future Ignis on the bed. “Maybe we should all just… go to bed early tonight?” he suggested. “Get a fresh start tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid that won’t make much of a difference, in the long run,” future Ignis replied. “Unless we make a drastic breakthrough very soon, we will be all out of options.”

Prompto sighed heavily. Apparently, not even future Ignis could keep up his positive thinking anymore. “I just…. I just wish that there was something more I could do,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

Prompto shrugged. “I don’t know. Like. You and other Iggy are all resourceful and stuff, and so smart. All I can do is read, and even then, with all the stuff I’m reading I’m not even sure I’m comprehending it. For all I know, I’d already read the solution twice over and I just never brought it up because I’m too dumb to understand it.”

Both Ignises perked up at the same time. “You’re not dumb,” they said in unison.

Prompto rolled his eyes. “I feel like I am, though. All those professionally written research papers and scientific reports - there’s so many words I don’t even recognize. How is an everyday pleb like me supposed to know what any of it means? I was never that great at science, or English, or like, anything in general.”

“Please, stop putting yourself down,” future Ignis murmured. “You are far more bright than you give yourself credit for.”

“Thanks.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

“You’re only saying that because you feel like you have to.”

“Prompto,” present Ignis warned from his desk. “Please don’t.”

“Great, I’ve got both of you scolding me now.”

“ _ Prompto. _ ”

Prompto groaned. He knew he shouldn’t say things like that and that it was absolutely his fatigue talking, but not even all the energy and confidence in the world could mask his insecurities, even on his best days.

“What if we never make it back?” Prompto wondered aloud.

Silence fell over the room.

“We will,” future Ignis spoke up. “I’ve lived the proof.”

“Eh?”

“My existence would otherwise be in jeopardy, would it not?”

“I guess.” Prompto paused. “Wait, are you saying that you remember this happening? Like, in the past?”

“I don’t.”

“But if it’s affected your past, since your past self is here and all, then that means you’ve technically already lived through this.”

“I haven’t.”

“ _ Gods _ , time travel makes  _ no sense. _ ”

“Daemon magic doesn’t, either.”

“But seriously, though.” Prompto stared at the floor. “What if we never make it back? What if we’re stuck here, in this weird place, forever? We’re bound to run out of food eventually, and like, what if the electricity and plumbing stops working, and---”

Prompto felt a gentle touch to his hand.

Future Ignis had placed his hand, soft, warm and ungloved as it had been since they’d first met in this place, on top of Prompto’s. “I’m telling you that even if it seems hopeless right now, we will find our way back,” future Ignis said quietly. “Again, my very existence is proof of this. Fate has other plans for us.”

“Yeah, but what  _ if _ \---”

“No buts,” future Ignis interrupted. 

“Gods, why do you even like me?” Prompto grumbled. “How do you put up with me on a day to day basis? And for  _ fifteen years _ ? I can’t  _ believe _ you’ve stayed with me that long.”

And then came another heavy silence.

“The Prompto of the future would often say things like that,” future Ignis whispered. “And each time he did, it would break my heart.”

Prompto felt his chest tighten. Guilt washed over him, and now more than ever he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut. “...I’m sorry,” he lamented.

Future Ignis slid his hand beneath Prompto’s, allowing their fingers to twine together. “Every day I’ve wished that I could erase whoever or whatever it was that made you feel that you are so undeserving of being loved. Because there is no one in this world who is more deserving than you.”

Prompto felt the mattress dip on the opposite side of him. Present Ignis had wandered over from the desk, sitting down on the other side of Prompto. He gathered Prompto’s free hand in his own, raising it to place a kiss atop it.

“I know you are tired, and you have had a hard day,” present Ignis said gently, “but that is no excuse to speak ill of yourself.”

“I just feel…” Prompto chewed his lip, avoiding staring at their hands. “I don’t know  _ what _ I feel. I’ve been kinda going crazy here, in this place. I mean, we’ve been keeping ourselves busy and stuff but even then, I feel like I’m not doing enough so my mind keeps wandering and it’s making me overthink, and then earlier I started remembering something.”

“What is it?” one of the Ignises asked, but Prompto wasn’t sure who.

“...when we got hit by that Mindflayer spell… the second ‘burst’ or whatever you called it… I remember how just… how  _ strange _ it felt, like I was being torn apart, but I couldn’t physically feel it. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything. It was like I didn’t have a body anymore, and all that was left was my mind.” He looked up at present Ignis. “I remember thinking that I had died.”

“Prompto,” future Ignis whispered.

“And I… I remember what my final thoughts were, before I completely blacked out.” 

Present Ignis squeezed Prompto’s hand. “Go on,” he coaxed.

“I thought something like… well, I died, and I died without telling you that I loved you one last time.” Prompto sniffed. “And like, shit. I can’t die. Not yet. I can’t die, because I feel like I’ve never…” He sniffed again, this time a shaky breath escaping him. “I feel like I’ve never… properly… told you… how I feel about you.”

Future Ignis shifted and exhaled, keeping silent.

“Prompto, you’ve told me plenty of times,” said present Ignis.

“You don’t get it,” Prompto muttered. “Anyone can say ‘I love you’ to someone, but those are just words. You can sleep with someone and it’s just that, sleeping with them. I just. I don’t know. It’s just _ different _ .” He felt frustrated, like he couldn’t articulate his words properly. “It’s just that... I don’t know if you know... how much I…. how much  _ you _ … mean to me.”

“Prompto, I do know.” Present Ignis kissed his hand once more. “But I understand your uncertainties, because I can relate. However, in my case, it’s because no matter how often I tell you, and show you how loved you are, how  _ special _ you are, it feels like my words never reach you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not your fault. That’s entirely on me. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Because I will spend a lifetime convincing you, if I must, and happily, too.”

“Prompto,” future Ignis spoke at last. “I assure you. I know.”

Prompto looked over at him.

“When I lost my sight,” he continued, “you did plenty to express your feelings for me. How much you love me. Not only in words, but with your touch. I could not see you anymore, but I didn’t need to. You - your hands, your gentle, soft, loving hands - reminded me every single day that I was not alone. That I was loved by someone, and deeply. That I mattered.”

“Ignis,” Prompto breathed.

“You are the very reason why I endured, why I kept going. If it weren’t for you, I… am not so certain that I would have made it this far. Your love healed me.” Future Ignis kissed Prompto’s hand this time. Prompto could tell that the man was trying his best to keep his composure, but the way he enunciated his words gave away his truth.

Prompto took in a quaking breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We all have our insecurities. Some of us just seal them away from plain sight while others wear them loudly on their sleeves, is all.”

“Let me guess. I’m a sleeve guy, yeah?”

“Correct,” said future Ignis. 

“Your sleeve clearly shows that you haven’t the faintest idea just how beloved you are,” present Ignis chimed in.

Prompto scrunched his nose. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because…”

“Because?” present Ignis inquired.

“Because no matter how hard I try, I just don’t understand why you fell for me.” Prompto looked down at his hands, both of them, one held by each Ignis. “Ever since we first got together, I’d sit around and find myself questioning everything, like, all the time. Don’t get me wrong; it’s been like the greatest possible dream come true. But I still can’t help but wonder. Why? Me, out of everyone in the world? Why did you pick me? What makes me worthy of your precious time and attention?” He sighed. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it makes sense,” said present Ignis, kissing Prompto’s hand once more. “I fell for you because I truly believe that you and I, well, we were simply meant to be. Your name is etched on my soul, and vice versa. Do you not agree?”

Prompto’s cheeks warmed. “Like, sure, I may have been writing our names inside dumb hearts in my school notebooks, but---”

“I love you, Prompto.” Present Ignis’s lips lingered against Prompto’s hand, deep emerald eyes gazing up at his partner. “That’s all there is to it. There is so much about you to love, I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I were to list them all.”

Emotion swelled in Prompto’s chest. If there was one thing Ignis was good at, it was making him tear up with his sweet, almost poetic, way with words. “Aw man,” he sniffled. “I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party for me.”

“It isn’t, though I would never object to an opportunity to shower you with love - wouldn’t you agree, Ignis?”

“Certainly,” replied future Ignis. 

Prompto rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, future Ignis still clasping it warmly. “How’s that any different from a pity party?”

Present Ignis chuckled. “There is no pity involved. Therefore, it is not a pity party, but rather, an adoration party.”

Prompto smiled crookedly. “I guess.”

“Prompto, the very fact that I was your final thought when you believed you were to die is proof of your feelings for me,” said future Ignis. His tone was anything but light; it carried weight, the opposite of the newly-turned lighthearted discussion that had occurred moments before.

Prompto looked to his left, where future Ignis sat. Ignis’ expression was indecipherable as he held Prompto’s hand, his fingertips lightly stroking Prompto’s ring finger. Currently nothing resided there, but Prompto knew that was very likely the hand that the Prompto of the future would wear his matching ring - after all, present Prompto would wear it there, too.

“Would you like to know my biggest regret?” future Ignis asked.

Something about his tone made Prompto feel uneasy. “Ignis,” he started, “you don’t---”

“It was that on the day that mattered the most, I neglected to remind you of my own feelings.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto pressed. “Ignis, I---”

“No matter. I can say it now,” future Ignis continued, ignoring Prompto’s inquiry. Prompto could feel him trembling, his hold on his hand tightening. “I love you, Prompto. With every fibre of my being, to the moon and back, I love you, and only you, and will keep loving you even after the Gods see it fit to take my soul from this wretched excuse of a haven they call a planet.”

The raw emotion charged in future Ignis’ voice made a shiver run down Prompto’s spine. He stared wide-eyed at the man he loved, the man that the man he loved would become in fifteen years, and found that his entire body was quivering. Hot tears flowed from Prompto’s eyes, and with a sharp cry he turned, pulling his hand away from present Ignis to throw his arms around future Ignis tightly.

“I love you too,” Prompto wept against his shoulder. “Gods, you have  _ no idea _ how much I love you. I feel the same. Of course I do. Shit, I’m crying. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cry in front of you.”

“Prompto,” future Ignis whispered against his hair. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s  _ not _ all right.”

“I apologize if I---”

“Stop  _ apologizing _ ,” Prompto hissed. He lifted his head from his shoulder and without so much as a moment of hesitation, pressed his mouth to future Ignis’.

And Ignis  _ overflowed _ .

Future Ignis’ hands cradled Prompto’s cheeks, kissing him deep and intimate. If Prompto hadn’t already been teetering on the edge of emotion before, he surely was  _ now _ \- he could scarcely stop the sobs that wanted to wretch free of his throat, the older man’s mouth swallowing any trace of a voice that he had. Prompto didn’t know what to say - he didn’t know what to  _ do _ \- he just did what his heart told him, and that was to put everything he possibly could into that kiss.

That kiss that he was  _ not _ sharing with ‘his’ Ignis - present Ignis.

A heavy breath from beside him broke the spell - Prompto froze, and all at once that all too familiar guilt flooded his chest. He pulled away from future Ignis’ lips, turning to stare at his partner with worry in his eyes.

But rather than disdain, present Ignis greeted him with a smile. “Technically, you are kissing me,” he said gently. “What is the problem?”

Prompto gaped at him. “Yeah, but---”

“I thought we’ve been over this?”

“ _ Yeah _ ,  _ but _ ,” he reiterated.

“If you  _ didn’t _ kiss him in that moment, I would have been more concerned.”

Prompto turned bright red. 

He had a point.

_ Gods, _ his heart.

Prompto’s heart was  _ pounding _ .

Swallowing the last traces of guilt with the lump in his throat, Prompto looked at future Ignis again. Tears streaked his cheeks, his lips parted to allow his shallow breaths to pass through. Prompto carefully removed his tinted glasses, setting them aside. He then placed his hands on his cheeks, thumbs smoothing away the tears delicately, as if he would shatter like porcelain.

“You know… you’re pretty handsome, Mr. Scientia,” Prompto murmured. He traced along his strong jawline, then connected the dots between the beauty marks on his cheek.

“As are you, Mr. Argentum,” future Ignis whispered, turning his face slightly to kiss Prompto’s hand. 

“Wait, if we’re married, shouldn’t I technically be Mr. Scientia too?”

“Ah, but then, technically you should be addressing me as Mr.  _ Argentum _ instead.”

“I don’t get it,” said Prompto with a scrunch of his nose. 

Future Ignis smiled. “Prompto, I chose to take on your last name.”

Prompto’s heart stopped. He sat back slightly, regarding future Ignis with a perplexed expression. “...what?”

“My Prompto said the very same thing when I first informed him of my choice.” Future Ignis reached up to touch Prompto’s face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Even in fifteen years, you still have no idea how much you are loved, Prompto. I took on your last name - is that not proof enough?” 

“But…” Prompto stuttered. He stared at him, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. “Taking on my last name means---”

“Shedding the social implications of my family name, yes,” future Ignis said simply.

Prompto’s shoulders collapsed. “But  _ why _ ?”

“Because I love you.”

“But---”

“No buts, darling,” present Ignis spoke up. “Do you really need  _ two _ of me to try and convince you otherwise?”

“I---”

Present Ignis chuckled. “Try as we may, it seems that no matter what we do or say there will  _ still  _ be that shred of doubt in our beloved’s mind. And here I thought that one day I would truly be able to  _ pound _ that into him.”

If Prompto had been drinking a beverage, it would have sprayed all over the floor like a broken faucet. “Dude!” he sputtered, “Not in front of---”

“What’s there to hide?” future Ignis mused. “I am him, after all, and I have no problems with what he just said. It was a good play on words, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you kindly,” said present Ignis.

“Charmed,” replied future Ignis.

“I’m anything but charmed right now,” Prompto groaned. “Most days I can hardly put up with one of you. But two? At the same time?  _ That _ is pushing it.”

Both Ignis’ laughed in unison, and Prompto decided that it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

Prompto finally smiled, feeling his sour mood begin to dissolve at last. He looked between the two men, feeling a fondness fill his chest, a pure longing that he’d never quite felt before. Sitting between them like this, he felt… safe, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him, and right now he was sure that was true.

“Hey Ignis?” Prompto said.

“Yes?” they both replied.

Prompto closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. “...thanks,” he murmured. “I, uh. I’m… sorry. For putting myself down like that. You’re… amazing. Both of you. You really didn’t have to trip over yourselves to shower me with all that nice stuff you were saying, but---”

A set of lips pressed to each cheek; soft and tender.

“Does the moon apologize to the galaxy’s stars for admiring their heavenly glow?” said one Ignis.

“And would the moon pass on an opportunity to bask in the sun’s warmth, longing to be kissed by its rays of light?” added the other.

Well, he lied about not being charmed. There were those butterflies in his stomach, and over cheesy moon expressions?  _ Really? _

Two hands belonging to different people - or maybe  _ not  _ so different - brushed against Prompto’s chin, each attempting to turn his face in opposing directions. Their fingers overlapped, and Prompto enjoyed the muted, rumbling symphony of both Ignises humming in amusement, or perhaps in conjecture, at the same time.

“You know, Prompto,” began present Ignis. Fingers slid down to Prompto’s neck, and it made him quiver. “It appears that Ignis and I are in agreement.”

“Eh?” Prompto raised his eyebrow. His eyes darted back and forth, and he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of how  _ close _ both men were to him right now. He could feel their warmth, their breaths, the faint scent of honey and lavender lingering in the air. “Agreement of what?”

“That we wish to… ah, extend our kind words in a physical sense.”

Prompto’s heart jumped. “What?”

“Well, now, that’s entirely up to Prompto,” said future Ignis. Another set of fingers traced along Prompto’s Adam’s apple, and he jerked in surprise.

“Huh? What's going on here?” Prompto squeaked, his nerves on the rise. There came another hand, this time sliding along his hip.  _ Three hands are on me,  _ Prompto realized. _ Three hands - no, wait, four?  _ He felt an additional on his opposite hip, now, giving it a gentle squeeze.  _ _ “Are you guys, like, telepathic or something? 

“Of course,” replied Ignis, to Ignis.

“Hey---”

“Well,” chuckled future Ignis. “As it seems, somewhere along the way, the Prompto of many years from now confessed to me interest in a concept that may be ahead of his time in the present.”

“Huh?”

“Mn. Compelling,” hummed present Ignis.

“What?!” Prompto exclaimed. “Can you guys  _ just _ \---”

“After all…” trailed off one Ignis. “You will, quite literally, never be posed with this opportunity ever again.”

Oh, Six. Prompto wasn’t imagining things. He wasn’t mistaken; there was no doubt about it, they wanted to----

“If you’re hinting at what I think you’re hinting at,” Prompto said, exasperated, “then isn’t that kinda like…”

Future Ignis laughed. “It would merely be a magic trick, my love. We are the same person. The only difference is that there is one of you, instead of two to match.”

“But---” he whined. Prompto took a breath, staring at present Ignis expectantly, as if he were waiting for the man to pipe up with a ‘haha, merely joking, darling’, but it never came. Instead he was met with a raised brow, and an almost smug turn of lips.

He swore his heart was going to project itself clear out of his throat at this rate. 

“We may not know how long this flicker in the timeline will last,” noted present Ignis.

“I can’t believe this,” said Prompto with a nervous laugh. “You’re not  _ seriously--- _ ”

“Chop chop,” said future Ignis. “If I know Prompto like I know Prompto, I’d bet all my gil on the wager that right now his cheeks are bright red, and he’s feeling rather  _ strained _ in his---”

And he was. “ _ Dammit,”  _ Prompto hissed. He raised his hands in the air, waving them about like there was a fly buzzing around. “Shouldn’t we, like, be concentrating on finding a solution to this weird time blip thingiemajig?” he argued. “Or y’know, actually  _ sleeping _ after the, pardon my Tenabraen,  _ shitty _ day we just had? I don’t really think that now is the best time to be thinking about---”

“If the  _ time blip thingiemajig’ _ s demise falls entirely on our shoulders, then there’s no reason why we can’t continue taking our time,” said present Ignis. “We’ve been here for how long, now? And nothing has changed thus far.”

Prompto sighed, kicking his feet off the side of the bed. “Well, I guess you’ve got a point.”

“Mmhm,” hummed present Ignis. He smiled pleasantly, placing his hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Well, now that that’s settled…”

“...shall we?” finished future Ignis.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Prompto couldn’t believe this.

Well, actually, the more he thought about it, the more he _ could _ believe this.

He’d thought that _ this _ would have been the last thing on his mind - on any of their minds, _ especially _ Ignis’ - but it had quickly become apparent that not even business and a bizarre predicament could get in the way of hormones. He thought back to that moment in the kitchen with future Ignis; how they’d slowly gravitated to one another, how intensely the man had kissed him, how _ need _ and _ want _ seemed to radiate off of him as Ignis pressed him to the counter. There was something about future Ignis - something about his very aura that intrigued Prompto, that made him want to be close and to cherish him. To love him.

And then, of course, there was present Ignis - his Ignis - and really, he knew that being alone with his boyfriend for longer than five minutes would eventually give way to handsy situations. He thought about that moment in the bedroom, where their casual flirting had quickly turned into thrumming lust; how easily Prompto had gotten distracted by everything that was _ Ignis _ , how it was intoxicating just being _ near _ him, how he would have been more than happy to let Ignis take him right then and there, had it not been for his nerves.

Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the circumstances surrounding their convoluted plight, Prompto’s mind would have wandered to this not long after being presented with the possibility. After all, how could he _ not _? It was like the plot of one of Gladio’s harlequin romance novels, where the protagonist gets completely and utterly wrecked by two unbearably handsome men, whose apparent purpose in life was to make him scream in ecstasy until he passed out from unrealistic depictions of orgasmic bliss.

And, well. It looked like Prompto suddenly found himself inserted into said harlequin romance novel, and his partners were more than willing to try and make that unrealistic depiction of orgasmic bliss a reality.

Already, Prompto knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Being intimate with Ignis was always, to put it lightly, incredible. Their first time together, Prompto actually _ cried _ \- never in his whole life had he ever felt so adored, so _ loved _ , and _ gods, _ Prompto didn’t know it was possible to feel _ that _ good. And every time preceding that was just as great - Prompto considered himself very lucky that he and his first boyfriend were so perfect together, so compatible, that they just couldn’t get enough of each other.

And right now, well. Prompto was almost intimidated by the prospect. If being with one Ignis was that good, then how would it feel if there were _ two _ of him doting on him?

Turns out, he didn’t need a whole lot of convincing to proceed. All it took was a kiss, a single kiss, and he was _ gone _.

The two men acted as if they shared a single consciousness as they worked together, removing Prompto’s clothes in perfect sync with one another. Prompto shared a kiss with one Ignis while the other slid his vest off his shoulders, and after his shirt was pulled up and off of his body he was thoroughly distracted when the opposite Ignis dove in for a needy kiss next.

When Prompto smoothed a hand through his hair, meticulously up-styled ash-blond locks told him that it was his Ignis - present Ignis - that was kissing him this time. Prompto sank into the familiarity, sitting up on his knees as he moved an arm around Ignis’ neck. It wasn’t until he felt another pair of lips against the back of his neck that he remembered that they weren’t alone - not entirely. 

Prompto shuddered. Future Ignis had moved behind him, kissing a trail down his neck from his hairline to his shoulders, worshipping every freckled inch of skin with his talented mouth. It was then that Prompto realized how _ dangerous _ this all was - this wasn’t a run of the mill threesome he was participating in; this was a threesome with two men who knew _ precisely _how to drive him wild in every way possible, and intended to do so using every trick in the book. After all, they were both Ignis, and they both shared the same intimate knowledge of their lover.

With a shiver, goosebumps erupted along his arms. “Ah,” Prompto gasped, pulling out of the kiss. 

“Are you all right?” whispered present Ignis. He pressed a kiss to Prompto’s cheek, then down to his jaw, where his lips dipped alarmingly close to his neck.

“Y-yeah,” breathed Prompto. Future Ignis, meanwhile, was kissing a line down Prompto’s spine, and it was difficult for Prompto to stay still. Prompto squirmed, pressing his body to present Ignis as he let out another shaking breath. “It’s just… wow, I, uh---”

“Do let us know if it becomes too much for you,” murmured future Ignis.

“S-sure.” Prompto’s eyes met with the emerald of present Ignis’ in front of him. The man smiled, caressing his cheek with his fingertips. Suddenly his lovers’ current positions made sense; it had been intentional. Present Ignis was taking the lead, purposeful in being at Prompto’s front, because they both knew that Prompto would be more comfortable to begin with the version of Ignis he was most familiar with - even if, technically, both Ignises were still the same person.

“I love you, Prompto,” said present Ignis. He kissed him delicately, and when Prompto felt his arms encircle him, he practically melted in the embrace.

Prompto was soon coaxed down onto the bed, lying on his side as present Ignis moved with him, parallel to his body. Their kisses became deeper and hungrier with each passing moment, and with future Ignis behind him giving his body the same lavished attention, Prompto quickly found himself drowning in the sensations. And then came the hands - bare hands, with the light drag of a wedding ring across his skin, running up and down his side. Prompto whimpered into the kiss, surprised to find that already he was rock hard and desperate for his release and no one had even really _ touched _ him yet.

He also realized that he had yet to have shed his body of his pants.

Future Ignis noted this - his fingertips traced along the waistband of Prompto’s jeans, then slipped over to his front. Prompto arched his back, pressing back against future Ignis in approval while present Ignis busied himself with running his tongue along Prompto’s in a sloppy, lustful kiss. He heard a soft sound rumble behind him; future Ignis, his mouth near Prompto’s ear, happily endorsing what Prompto had just caused. To Prompto’s delight, he felt a hardness pressing against his backside and that turned him on _ so much _ that he couldn’t help but press back firmer, practically _ grinding _future Ignis against his clothed ass.

“Prompto,” the man gasped. 

Prompto _ shuddered _, and present Ignis withdrew from his mouth. He hardly had the time to protest when he felt an ungloved hand drag against his cheek, turning his head to the side. Future Ignis’ lips greeted his own there, and Prompto quickly lost himself again, the opposite Ignis kissing down his chest.

Prompto swiftly grew overwhelmed. Distracted by future Ignis’ kiss, he hardly noticed when the same man’s hand moved around him again, flicking open the button of his pants with such expertise that if Prompto had the coherency, he would have been impressed by the sheer skill. When the zipper of his fly followed and fingertips grazed perilously close to his groin, Prompto squirmed, excitement hitting him like a train.

“Gods, Ignis,” he whined against future Ignis’ lips. “Touch me. _ Please _.”

Present Ignis, meanwhile, chuckled from his current position. “Now, now. Don’t be hasty, darling,” he mused. He pressed a kiss to Prompto’s chest again, then dragged his lips over to his nipple. 

“Hasty? Who’s being---” his voice hitched as a sharp gasp escaped him. “---hasty, I’m--- Ignis, holy shit, I swear I’m gonna---”

Future Ignis worked a hand beneath Prompto’s hip briefly, lifting him in order to slide his underwear and jeans down off his waist. Prompto sighed in relief as his hard arousal was freed at last, but what followed wasn’t exactly what he wanted; instead of taking him in hand, future Ignis’ palm ran along his lower stomach, then up and back around to his side. 

“Hey---” Prompto protested, but present Ignis quickly silenced him with another deep kiss.

Prompto was beginning to feel very overstimulated.

He felt helpless as he laid there while both Ignises worked in unison, mouths and hands and infuriatingly hot _ heat _ simmering all throughout him. Prompto couldn’t stop squirming, trembling, each touch sparking pleasure and causing him to jolt as he grew more and more aroused, more _ desperate _. When Prompto’s mouth had a moment of freedom, he huffed, his breaths coming heavy and fast against present Ignis’ shoulder. He couldn’t take it anymore - he was throbbing borderline painfully between his legs, and no matter how much he hoped and prayed that one of them would grant him sweet relief, neither Ignis touched him where he craved it the most.

Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Prompto hooked his leg over present Ignis’ hip, rutting against him pathetically while he simultaneously rubbed his backside against future Ignis’ straining member. All three of them sighed and moaned and writhed on the bed, and Prompto was getting so utterly _ frustrated _ that he was _ so damn close _ and yet _ not close enough _ and god _ dammit _ Ignis, _ why _ wouldn’t you _ just _\---

And then, with a simple, subtle graze of fingertips just inches from his swollen cock, he was finally pushed over the edge.

Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if that alone was enough to break the spell, and that when he opened his eyes again, he’d be back in the Nebulawood, where the Mindflayers had left him.

When he finally opened those blue orbs of his, though only halfway, he found that he was staring up at the ceiling of Ignis’ bedroom through blond eyelashes, his chest still heaving.

“Are you all right, Prompto?” 

Turning his head, he locked eyes with present Ignis, who had, somewhere along the way, removed all of his own clothing - just how long had he been dazed in post-orgasmic bliss for, anyway? - and the man smiled despite his concerned inquiry.

“Um, yeah,” Prompto replied. He exhaled slowly, wiping sweat off his brow. He looked to his other side to find that future Ignis had removed his clothing as well, though the man wasn’t facing him.

Right away, Prompto noticed another glaring difference between his lovers.

Covering future Ignis’ left arm were numerous scars, deep and ridged in patches, much like the large scar that covered his left eye. Prompto couldn’t help but compare them to burns, a souvenir of what was no doubt a painful and horrifying memory for him.

His heart sank.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore the fact that Ignis was scarred and blind, and how much he tried not to let his mind wander to the unknown, he couldn't get that burning question out of his mind.

What in the world _ happened _?

“Ignis?” Prompto whispered. 

“Yes, Prompto?” replied future Ignis.

Prompto rolled onto his side, reaching out with a loving hand as he caressed Ignis’ arm. “I love you.”

Future Ignis stiffened, then relaxed beneath Prompto’s touch. “And I you,” he murmured. 

“I know you’re not gonna tell me what happened, but--”

“Prompto,” future Ignis warned.

“--but, I want you to know that whatever it was, it wouldn’t ever make me change how I feel about you,” Prompto continued. “Ever. Nothing in the world ever could. You’re still as beautiful as the day we met. Scars or not, I don’t give a damn what you look like. You're always flawless to me.”

Future Ignis pursed his lips, placing his hand overtop Prompto’s. “Thank you,” he said gently. “It… soothes my heart, to hear those words from you, though they wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard them.”

“Huh?” Prompto blinked.

Future Ignis smiled. “Déjà-vu, my love. Once upon a time, my beloved said those very same words to me, and they gave me the strength to persevere.”

“Oh,” said Prompto. He smiled, too. “Déjà-vu has definitely been a thing lately, huh?” He ran his hand up and down future Ignis’ arm. “Come cuddle me for a bit?”

Future Ignis hesitated, then gave a curt nod. “Very well,” he replied.

Being held by Ignis, times two, was a feeling Prompto never wanted to forget.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there on the bed, an Ignis on either side of him, one hand from each Ignis buried in his hair, but it must have been for awhile, as he soon felt the pull of fatigue tease him.

But, something else teased him, too.

“Well, then,” spoke present Ignis. “Are you feeling up for round two?”

Prompto jerked, rolling onto his side before propping his head up on his hand. “What?” he peeped, staring daggers in present Ignis’ direction. “What do you _ mean _, round two?”

“Did you really think that was the end of it?” future Ignis murmured. He kissed the back of Prompto’s neck. “We’d hardly just begun.”

“Uh,” Prompto huffed. He swallowed, feeling his cheeks warm all over again. “Well… no. I mean. Heh. Would have been pretty selfish of me if I drifted off to sleep without returning the favor, huh?”

“There’s no favor to be returned, Prompto,” said present Ignis. “Remember, everything about this evening is about you.”

“You _ really _ don’t---”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yeah, of course I did. But---”

“You don’t want to continue?”

Prompto turned red, all the way down to his shoulders. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then?”

“Then, um.” Prompto rubbed at the back of his head. “Yeah. I… wouldn’t exactly object… if we… picked up from where we left off?”

“Splendid,” present Ignis said lightly. He gave Prompto an almost wicked smile, and he could have sworn he saw a glint in his eye that could only mean one thing…

Prompto was really in for it now.

-♊-♊-♊-

Prompto wasn’t used to being doted on.

At least, not to _ this _ extent.

After being kissed breathless by both Ignises, they once again moved in sync, off the bed and onto the floor. Coaxed to scoot forward, Prompto sat on the edge of the bed, and he wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to handle just the pure _ visual _ of what was about to unfurl before him.

Future Ignis at his left, present Ignis at his right, the two men knelt in front of Prompto, their proficient hands taking their time worshipping Prompto’s legs. Prompto had never been a very big fan of his legs; after all, memories of when they were short and stumpy still were still prominent in his mind, even if they were anything but now. If there was one thing he enjoyed about them, though, it was how sensitive they were to touch - something Ignis discovered very early on in their relationship. Prompto tried to keep as calm and collected as possible as fingers and palms caressed up and down his calves, teasing the back of his knees. They slid up to his thighs, each touch calculated and precise until Prompto was practically _ writhing _ from the sensual attention.

His breath caught in his throat, releasing in a short, warbled gasp as future Ignis delicately placed Prompto’s left leg on his shoulder, turning his head so his lips met with the smooth skin of his inner thigh. Prompto could feel his innards melting, like molten hot honey, before solidifying again and twisting in a tight curl. Gods, how was it that Ignis could get him going with _ such _ minimal effort? He couldn’t believe it, but he was already hard again and _ oh, shit, _present Ignis was quick to catch on to that fact.

Hot breath against his sensitive cock made his fingers bunch in the sheets, leaning back on his hands.

“Shit, Ignis,” Prompto whined. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, because if what he thought was going to happen was going to happen, there was _ no way _he would be able to just watch casually, like a spectator, without losing it immediately.

“You’re exquisite, my love,” purred future Ignis from against his thigh. 

“Is this all right?” asked present Ignis. Prompto couldn’t help but peek at his lover just in time to find two sets of eyes on him, emerald and translucent seafoam, filled with something he couldn’t quite place; determination? Adoration? Lust? All three at the exact same time? Probably.

Prompto nodded briskly. His heart was _ pounding _, rattling the chambers of his chest. He was… happy. So, so, happy, and yet, there it came before he could stop it. “I don’t deserve this,” he uttered weakly, covering his face with his hands. “I really, really don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” whispered present Ignis. Prompto felt the faintest touch to the tip of his arousal, his body giving a twitch and a shudder of gasped breath. “You really, truly, do.”

Prompto’s insecurities were silenced by hot, wet heat, swallowing him whole.

“Shit,” Prompto squealed in an all-too-embarrassing tone. “Oh, _ shit _.”

Present Ignis wrapped those perfect, thin cupid’s bow lips around his cock, taking the entire length of him in his mouth and down his throat like it was nothing at all. Except, it was _ something _ \- Prompto was larger than he’d ever admit - but Ignis, well. Ignis was way, way too good at this kind of thing, so much so that Prompto had a hard time believing that he had been Ignis’ first. The way his mouth glided along him like butter on bread, the way his tongue caressed his hardness _ just right _, it was almost supernatural.

Ignis was pleased to make use of every trick in the book. Slowly, almost carefully, he moved his mouth along his cock, his tongue massaging the underside like a magic lamp. When his lips met with the head once more, he kissed the tip, once, twice, before flicking his tongue to the slit and slowly inserting it inside his mouth again. Prompto was already putty in his hands - he could hardly focus on the fact that future Ignis was busy sucking a line of meticulous, red bruises along his inner thigh anymore, though the fact that there were _ two _mouths on him was enough to make him squirm in delight.

“Ignis,” Prompto gasped. His legs shook from the brief moment of oversensitivity, leaning his body forward on the bed. He pawed at the air, as if he were reaching for something - and that something ended up being future Ignis’ hair. He grabbed a handful of mussed, ash-blond locks, as if he were the anchor grounding him to reality. Future Ignis hummed his approval, a soft rumble in the back of his throat, and present Ignis decided it would be a good idea to mimic the sound with a full mouth.

Prompto whimpered from the vibration, hardly having a chance to recover before present Ignis swallowed him down again, draping his upper body over Prompto’s right leg. Prompto soon felt a hand drag along his lower back, then down to his backside, grabbing a firm handful of flesh before brushing his back once more. Prompto was sure his soul was beginning to leave his body again, the pleasure building faster and faster with Ignis’ mouth, and when present Ignis popped off, it took Prompto a moment to realize that the other Ignis had taken over.

Future Ignis curled his digits around him, pressing Prompto’s stiff arousal to Prompto’s lower stomach as he moved completely between his legs. He kissed along the underside, sucking the head while simultaneously using his hand to stroke every uncovered inch. Prompto doubled over, linking his hands behind future Ignis’ neck.

“Ignis,” Prompto huffed again, feeling his end closing in on him. He moaned, gasping in short sharp breaths as future Ignis worked him faster and faster. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, _ shit _.”

What was present Ignis even doing now? Prompto wasn’t sure, but he could maybe decipher the feeling of velvet lips kissing his hip, hands grazing his back, and the rumble of a deep voice whispering words of praise and adoration - but it was all drowned out by the thrumming of his heart in his ears. Whines, moans, whimpers all fell from his lips, faster and louder as future Ignis sucked on him fervently. He knew he was getting beyond loud now, but he didn’t care - if Ignis was the conductor, then Prompto was the symphony, and he’d sing so loud the Gods themselves would tell him to shut the hell up already.

Trembling fingers tugged at the hair on the back of Ignis’ neck, and then, it was all over. Prompto shouted his release, and his body crumpled forward like cut marionette strings.

Prompto was limp, a heap of flesh and bone. He’d insist that he’d just seen all the stars in the galaxy firsthand - weightless and utterly spent, Prompto had never came so hard in his _ life _ and holy shit, he knew that he wasn’t off the hook quite yet. No, there was more to come, and he didn’t know if he’d live through it. 

“Gods, I feel that in my toes,” Prompto muttered against future Ignis’ hair. He couldn’t help but giggle, feeling like he’d just drank the equivalent of ten energy drinks, only they were endorphins rushing through the channels of his bloodstream. “Ohhhh my god. Shit.”

One Ignis chuckled. “Did you enjoy yourself, my love?”

“Mmmmmf,” replied Prompto.

“I love you.”

“Mmmm… you too,” groaned Prompto.

His lovers were kind enough to allow him a moment of mercy, to descend back to Eos again. Then, his body moved, though he wasn’t the one doing the moving. With a kiss to his cheek and his forehead, and another to his thigh then his hip, he felt gentle hands lift him, guiding him into a sitting position. Prompto still felt boneless, drowning in his own pool of ecstasy, and when he tried to lie down against the bed, his back met with someone’s front.

“I love you,” whispered present Ignis in his ear. Prompto’s lips parted, sighing when he felt the man bury his face against the back of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. “More than life itself, I love you, Prompto.”

“I love you too,” Prompto managed to breathe.

“I love you,” uttered a second voice near his other ear. Future Ignis kissed his temple. “You will never comprehend how deeply and soulfully I adore you, my love, but I wish to show you just how fifteen years of intensely and selflessly loving you feels like.”

A sob echoed against the walls of the bedroom, startling Prompto when he realized it had come from himself. He couldn’t help it; he was overwhelmed, both physically and emotionally. The day’s events - no, however long they’d been in this place’s events - had finally drained him of any composure he may have had left. When the tears had filled his eyes, he wasn’t sure, but they now flowed freely as he sharply inhaled. “Ignis,” he nearly bawled. “Ignis… I…”

“Shhh,” whispered present Ignis. He kissed his neck again, his arms sliding around his middle. Prompto felt his body be coaxed backward, lying down not against the tousled blankets that covered the bed, but instead on top of a warm, toned body. His back weighed down on present Ignis’ front, and somewhere in his bliss-filled, emotional mind he wondered just what the pair were planning. Present Ignis’ legs draped over the edge of the bed, and Prompto could hear the patter of shoeless footsteps as future Ignis wandered away.

“Ignis?” Prompto whispered.

“Yes, darling?” present Ignis’ lips brushed the shell of his ear as he spoke.

“I…” Prompto tried again. “I just, I want you to know that---”

“I know.” Kisses to his shoulder and a quaking breath gave further affirmation. “I’ve always known, and I will never forget it. You have nothing to fear. If these were to be my last moments on this earth, I would die peacefully and happily, knowing that my heart beats as one with the love of my life.”

“Oh, god,” Prompto sobbed again, then clasped a hand over his mouth to silence himself. He cried, but laughed through the tears, joy emanating off of him. “How am I supposed to one-up that?”

“No need,” present Ignis spoke. “You’ve already gone above and beyond with your affections. You just never knew that you do so, on a daily basis, without even trying.”

Prompto felt like he was drowning again.

Then, there were footsteps approaching. Prompto’s legs parted, nudged open by future Ignis’ waist. There was a faint _ pop _sound, a lid being opened, and future Ignis leaned over him.

“I love you,” future Ignis said again. He sealed his sentiments with a kiss, quick and deep, before pulling away once more. “Please tell us if it becomes too much for you.”

Prompto _ shuddered _. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, shit, you’re really going to---”

He felt present Ignis shift beneath him, future Ignis’ hand moving briefly between their bodies to diligently prepare Prompto for what was to come. Doting hands held his hips in place, and then there was a hardness pressing into him. A familiar girth slowly filled him whole, causing Prompto to gasp a moan of delight, the sensation making his skin crawl in all the best ways. The slight movement of the man’s hips beneath his body followed by the harsh sigh in his ear told him that it was present Ignis who had entered him first.

“Are you all right?” whispered present Ignis. Prompto could hear the subtle change in his lover’s tone already; deep with lust, words spoken with just the faintest hint of undone, like a shoelace loosening from its bow. Prompto nodded, following it with a sound of approval. He couldn’t find the words to reply with; instead, he threaded his fingers together with present Ignis’, squeezing them in a desperate grip. Being joined with Ignis in such a way always _ did _ something to him; it was like he was put under a spell, the world around him turning to paint mixed with water. Nothing else mattered to him except _ Ignis _ \- everything and anything that was Ignis - his mind and body relinquishing control.

“I will be gentle, this I promise you,” future Ignis breathed above him, leaning close to kiss Prompto again. Prompto grabbed onto future Ignis with his free hand, pulling him down as he dipped him into a kiss so passionate, so filled with _ want _that tears mixed together against soft cheeks and bodies trembled with emotion. Their kiss continued as future Ignis shifted; and then, there was a moment of pain. Trying not to tense up, Prompto did his best to focus on their kiss, how future Ignis kissed him like he would never kiss him again; how present Ignis squeezed his hand like a lifeline; how their combined breaths quivered from the pressure surrounding them within Prompto’s body. 

Prompto had his doubts that he would be able to take something so thick. He remembered how difficult it had been to fully take Ignis during their first time, but when his body finally accepted him, it felt incredible… but that was one. This... was two. Prompto grunted, groaned, huffed into the kiss, his legs shifting as he tried to compensate for the added girth. He parted his legs as wide as he could, around future Ignis’ hips as the other slowly, carefully, eased himself inside, pressing atop present Ignis, Prompto being stretched to his absolute limits to compensate for the pair inside him. He wouldn’t deny that it wasn’t entirely painless; but with how patient future Ignis was, partnered with the generous application of lube, by a miracle, future Ignis managed to sheath himself inside completely, two hard cocks pressing tightly together inside of Prompto.

Prompto had never felt so _ full _. He couldn’t believe that they both fit - but would they be able to move? Future Ignis answered this question shortly after a mumble of, “Is this okay?” followed by an, “Are we hurting you?” in which Prompto affirmed and denied in that order, giving him permission to proceed.

None of them could ever have imagined how this would feel.

The three of them vocalized in unison; Prompto giving a shuddering, loud cry, and a chorus of deep, pleased moans from his lovers adding bass to their music. Tight. Gods, it was just so _ tight _, and the way their hard cocks felt as they rubbed together inside his body made Prompto’s legs jerk. Future Ignis lifted one, placing his ankle against his shoulder as he gradually withdrew, then slid back inside of him in an experimental thrust.

Soon, their bodies rocked in a complementary rhythm; future Ignis pulling out while present Ignis pushed in, and Prompto was helpless, overwhelmed by all the sensations brimming throughout him. It was different, that was for sure - different in a way that was new and exciting, and as he began to adjust to the feeling, it started to feel unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Prompto leaned his head back, his hair brushing against present Ignis’ shoulder as his mouth fell open in heavy, pleased moans. 

“Ignis,” he hissed. “I… I can’t… _ ah _…” He inhaled sharply as he squirmed atop present Ignis. “I’m…”

And then, the needy, desperate movements of his lovers slowed, replaced by a deeper, deliberate pace as future Ignis took over. The man leaned down to capture Prompto’s lips; and their kiss turned intimate and filled with all the words neither of them could articulate.

Prompto wasn’t sure what this feeling was. There was just something about future Ignis, this entire time he’d been around him, that was shrouded in something he couldn’t quite decipher. But when he felt hot, wet tears drip onto his cheeks and an ardent hand cradle the side of his face, Prompto finally understood.

_ Passion. _

_ Longing. _

_ Melancholy _.

All three, existing as one, conflicting and yet blending together like a calculated formula.

Who was the man Ignis would become, truly?

Prompto didn’t care.

He loved him, just the same. 

“Prompto,” future Ignis wept in a tone Prompto had never heard from him before. His breath came in a heavy exhale, fingers dragging along the side of Prompto’s face in a caress that made Prompto want to cry, himself. “Please… don’t ever---”

Prompto kissed him intensely, desperately; his emotions climbing until it became overwhelming. He felt present Ignis’ hand against his throat, placed there delicately in an intimate and trusting gesture. The pain, the pleasure, the _ love _ they shared for him, Prompto could feel it all seep through him like a warm injection. All of this was just _ too _much - Prompto sobbed out, “I love you,” so many times he’d lost count and all coherency. Ignis’ voice whispered harshly in both of his ears, utterings of sweet nothings and declarations of love, and as Prompto lost himself in a loud sob, for the first time, he started to believe.

_ Maybe I am worthy of his love after all. _

-♊-♊-♊-

A divine creature lay fast asleep between them, hiding his pure white wings in a shroud of insecurity.

How beautiful his love had looked in the throes of passion; sweat-slicked sun kissed hair, pale skin glowing in a blissful wash of sunset, the little noises escaping his throat both endearing and tantalizing at the same time. 

Ignis loved Prompto intensely, deeply. He adored him, with everything that he was and had. He would both live for him and die for him.

The Ignis of the present had died for him; and the future, lived.

But only just barely.

Ignis lay at Prompto’s right side, Prompto cradled in the crook of his arm as the blond slept peacefully. Ignis often would just lie awake some nights, the sound of Prompto’s slow and steady breathing soothing his nerves, calming his very soul. Prompto was anything but incompetent, yet Ignis felt it his duty to protect him, no matter the cost. He was precious; a rare gem in this world of blunt, dull alloy, but why Prompto couldn’t see that himself, Ignis would never know.

Prompto rolled closer to Ignis, his head coming to rest against Ignis’ chest. An ungloved hand slid along Prompto’s freckled shoulder, and he then leaned in to kiss his cornflour locks. When his hair rustled from the opposite direction, Ignis noted a mirror of his hand buried within.

To exist in the proximity of another ‘you’. 

It was nothing short of extraneous.

Ignis wasn’t sure he would ever forget that deep _ chill _ he felt when he regarded his future self’s scarred appearance for the first time. Deep down, Ignis already knew what had happened; it was something that Ignis didn’t want to think about, something that was etched in his destiny, that he couldn’t divide himself from, even if he’d wanted to. This Ignis… he was, certainly, himself, but a version so far from the him that he was now that it was as if he were almost… _ corroded _, by circumstance. He already knew the path that this man had walked, what he himself would end up journeying down sooner than later - but only to a certain point. 

There was another matter - the one that did not involve his scars.

Something _ else… _ had happened. Something that had taken a mended man and had broken him all over again.

His heart strained, twisted, fragmented.

“Ignis?” came future Ignis’ voice.

Ignis wondered if they truly did share a psychic wavelength.

“Yes?” he replied.

Future Ignis exhaled slowly. The man turned onto his side, lowering his face to Prompto’s shoulder as his lips grazed his skin when he spoke again. “You would do anything to protect him, won’t you?” he whispered. He was exhausted, barely conscious, and yet, he spoke with purpose.

“As you already know, it is without question,” Ignis spoke firmly.

“Even if the knowledge in order to do so could possibly cause this world, and everything in it, to cease to exist, to collapse in on itself?”

“A world without Prompto in it is not worth living in at all,” replied Ignis.

There came a strained breath, one escaping a tight throat.

“I agree,” future Ignis whispered harshly.

Ignis watched his future self; watched how he trembled, watched as the deep, agonizing sorrow that the man had harboured within this whole time slowly rose to the surface.

“... so I was right,” Ignis murmured.

Future Ignis fell to silence.

“After all, no one knows oneself better than oneself,” Ignis continued. “From the very first moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew. I couldn’t decipher the tremors in your soul at first, but the more time I spent with you, the more I was able to slowly piece together the turbulent pieces of the puzzle.”

Future Ignis released a shuddering breath. Ignis watched as painful tears escaped his future self’s damaged eyes, how his very _ being _ twisted and writhed in anguish, and yet, he continued to say nothing. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“_ Please _ ,” Ignis pleaded. He reached over Prompto’s sleeping form to grasp future Ignis’ shoulder, his piercing gaze fixed on him, though the other couldn’t reciprocate. “You do not have to give specifics. Anything, anything at all, will help. _ Please _.”

Future Ignis lay there and wept for some time, still unable to bring himself to speak. Soon, tears began to escape Ignis’ eyes as well, feeling their emotions coalesce as one. He would not rush him, nor would he force him; Ignis merely lay in wait, because future Ignis was him, and he knew that he would soon give way.

Prompto was his everything, after all.

“...Thirteen years from now,” future Ignis finally croaked in a strained voice, breaking the silence, “there will be an important event in Lucis’ history. Do not… under any circumstances… attend this event… and never… ever… let Prompto out of your sight.”

Ignis stiffened.

“Keep him close,” future Ignis continued, “keep him safe… no matter what anyone may try to tell you otherwise. Do _ not _attend this event. Stay far, far away… do not even leave your home.” He leaned his head in Ignis’ direction, his blind eyes wavering. “Do you understand me?”

His words chilled him; Ignis shivered, as if Shiva herself had graced him with her presence, turning him frigid and numb from head to toe.

“I swear on everything I am that I will heed your words,” Ignis spoke at last. “I promise that I will keep him safe. I swear on my own life, I will.”

“Thank you,” future Ignis sobbed, burying his face in Prompto’s hair. He no longer purposefully hid his torment; it now wretched free from his heart, shredded and torn. “I’ve laid awake far too many nights, desperately wishing that I could undo the worst day of my life.”

Tears drained from Ignis’ eyes. “I’m sorry,” he uttered in a breath. “I’m… so, so sorry.”

“Please know that all I’ve ever wanted was to protect him,” future Ignis wailed, a horrible, painful sound that Ignis never thought was possible to come from himself. “To keep him safe at all costs. He deserves to live happily, to live the life that he deserves.”

“Yes, I know,” Ignis whispered. “That is my desire as well.”

“Every moment I am awake without him is torture,” future Ignis cried. His palm slid along Prompto’s arm, seeking his hand. He brought it to his face, holding it to his cheek. “I… I cannot breathe most days. I never want you to feel this way, Ignis. No one ever should. It’s… completely and utterly _ destroyed me _.” The man whimpered, his entire body shaking in grief.

“I told myself I would be able to move on,” he continued. “After all, I’d done it once before, and I knew that I could not bring him back. And yet, _two_ _years_ have passed and I _still_ feel the same as I did on that day. He was my everything. He _is_ my everything. Being here with him in this place - at first, I thought death had given me its sweet kiss at last and granted me all I ever wanted - to be with him again - but if this were life after death, why would I still be blind? To be with him again and to _not_ be able to _see _him - it is nothing short of _cruel_.”

Ignis reached over to place his hand on future Ignis’ other cheek. Future Ignis shook, as if the contact startled him back to reality. When Ignis spoke next, it was filled with determination, like a vow.

“My friend, ” he said softly. “Your suffering will not be in vain. Thanks to you, I know now that this place - this purgatory - is not a curse, but a blessing in disguise.”

Future Ignis’ lips parted, but he did not speak.

“To risk shattering the very structure of our universe by indulging me with this forbidden knowledge… I will not take this gift for granted. Tonight, you shall rest peacefully.” Ignis watched his future self, thumbing away a stray tear that had fallen down his cheek. “This, I promise you.”

Future Ignis said nothing; he was silent as a trembling hand rose to place atop Ignis’ on his cheek. “Thank you,” future Ignis wept. “Thank you… I cannot say anything more… but thank you.”

When Ignis gave in to slumber at last that night, the universe told him that it would be for the last time in this realm.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Darkness.

This time, though, it wasn’t from vision loss. It was the middle of the night, and it was  _ freezing _ .

When Prompto opened his eyes, he felt beyond groggy. Sluggish. Like there was a weight pressing down on his body, on his limbs, preventing him from doing so much as rolling over. Groaning, he shifted, his mind a complete and utter blur. Where was he? What happened? When he shifted again, he winced as something scratched his skin, and with another shift, he confirmed two things he now knew for certain:

  1. He was outside, in the woods, lying on a bed of twigs and rocks;
  2. He was completely stark naked.

“What the hell?” Prompto grumbled aloud. He managed to sit upright, rubbing his eyes as he took a good look at his surroundings. 

The moon peeked through the canopy of leaves above, beams of light touching the ground. It was just enough to see around him, and to see himself. He recognized the place; it was the Nebulawood, the forest not far from the Wiz Chocobo Post. It should have been strange for him to be in such a place, but for some reason, it wasn’t. He had been here before, he knew, and he’d been here not that long ago.

But why was he here now? And why was he  _ naked _ ?

_ Shit _ , it was  _ so  _ cold.

Prompto’s teeth chattered as he moved his arms around himself in a makeshift blanket, taking another look around. Beside him was a massive fallen tree, serving as a shield to hide himself from any daemons that could be lurking nearby, and in the opposite direction was a whole lot of nothing - more trees, plants, leaves, sticks, rocks, dirt, naked body--- 

Wait. Naked body?

And not just  _ any _ naked body - he’d recognize that firm derrière anywhere.

“Ignis!” Prompto called out. He cursed under his breath, his jelly legs refusing to grant him nothing but a crawl. Crawling on the forest floor was anything but pleasant - ugh, pebbles and shards of wood were  _ sharp, _ y’know - and his palms were soft and pierceable. But for Ignis, he’d crawl across a thousand forest floors butt naked if he had to.

Ignis was stone cold  _ out _ . At first, Prompto feared that he was dead, but he still had a pulse and he was breathing, so there was that. Oddly enough, though, he was warm - did he just get here? And when?  _ How _ ? Prompto’s mind was still a fuzzy blur, and rather than force himself to try and remember anything, he instead focused on his current predicament: being naked and alone in the woods with an unconscious Ignis.

At this rate, they were going to freeze to death. Prompto wasn’t sure what to do, though - he still couldn’t move, and they were  _ definitely _ alone - and it wasn’t like he could just will a pair of clothes into existence---

Actually. Yes, he could.

_ The Armiger _ .

“Yes!” Prompto hissed with an aerial fistbump. In an instant, he summoned a change of clothes for himself, then Ignis, and then finally, a blanket. He couldn’t get Ignis dressed right now, so for the time being, they’d just huddle close under the blanket… and Prompto would lie awake and hope that Ignis came to soon.

After an hour or so, Ignis returned.

Toasty warm thanks to Prompto, Ignis groaned, lifting his head and moving his arms. Prompto had started to doze at that point, but quickly snapped to attention.

“Hey, Iggy,” he greeted gently. Prompto rolled away to give Ignis more room to move, relief washing over him. “Babe, can you hear me? It’s your friendly neighbourhood Prompto speaking.”

“Prompto,” Ignis murmured. He was without his glasses, squinting from fatigue and no doubt confusion. He rubbed at his eyes, and then the first thing he did was reach out for Prompto. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” Prompto smiled. His hand met with Ignis’, and their fingers linked together. “So, uh, I can’t really tell you why we’re naked in the Nebulawood in the middle of the night, but something tells me we aren’t on a date.”

Ignis chuckled despite himself, stretching his legs, feet peeking out from beneath the blanket. “I’d like to believe that I’m… far classier than that,” he replied. “I’d prefer we were naked in the middle of Duscae... if I were to be honest with you.” He yawned, then hummed, shifting his legs. “My legs are akin to jello.”

“Yeah, dude, I get it. That’s what I thought, too. Totally gelatinous stumps.” Prompto rolled closer to him again, giving his lips a quick kiss. “You okay, though? You’re not hurt anywhere, right?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Ignis sighed. “Where are Noct and Gladio?”

“Not here. We’re all alone. Do you remember anything, Iggy?”

“I faintly recall us being out in the Nebulawood for a hunt, but after that, my memory is a blank.”

“Huh. Guess it’ll come back to us in time.” Prompto smiled. “For now, though, uh… at least we’ve got the Armiger?  _ So _ glad we can store non-weapon stuff in there.”

“The Armiger,” Ignis repeated. “Were you able to summon your cell phone?”

Prompto stared.

“Oh. That would have been a good idea, huh?” he muttered. “I was more focused on the, uh, naked aspect, instead of the whole logic aspect.”

With a wave of his hand, Prompto summoned his cell phone, relieved that it hadn’t been lost in the woods somewhere. When he lit up the screen, he saw it fill from top to bottom with notifications when his connection kicked in; missed calls, texts, King’s Knight stuff---

Right away, his phone began to ring.

Noctis.

“Hey dude!” Prompto exclaimed. “Where the--”

_ “And where the HELL have you been?!”  _ shouted his best friend’s voice from the speaker.  _ “Is Ignis with you? Please tell me Ignis is with you because Gladio’s on his way to an aneurism.” _

“Yeah, yeah, Iggy’s with me,” Prompto replied. “I don’t know what happened, but we’re in the Nebulawood, and we’re kinda out of sorts. Not hurt, though. Can you guys swing by and pick us up?”

_ “Already on it.” _

“My hero. See ya soon, buddy.” 

Prompto grinned, looking back at Ignis. “Noct and Gladio are okay. They’re heading over to pick us up. Guess we better get dressed before they get here, huh babe?”

Ignis didn’t reply.

“Iggy?” Prompto blinked. He gave his shoulder a gentle shake. “Eos to Iggy. You still in there?”

Ignis remained silent - brow furrowed, lips pursed, he appeared to be deep in thought, staring ahead at something Prompto couldn’t quite place. A few waves of a hand in front of his glittery green eyes and he finally blinked, jolting as if he had been startled.

“Apologies, Prompto,” Ignis murmured. He exhaled, his breath coming in a visible puff against the night air. “I’m afraid I missed what you said.”

“Oh.” Prompto frowned. “I said that Noct and Gladio are on the way to pick us up, so we should probably consider being not-naked before they get here.” He propped himself up on his elbow, leaning over Ignis slightly. “You okay?”

Ignis gave a weak tilt of his head, an affirmation that Prompto didn’t quite believe. “Yes,” he replied. “And you?”

“Good, I guess.” Prompto rubbed at his nose. “Sure wish I could remember what happened, though. But oh well. We’re alive. That’s all that matters, right?”

Prompto felt the gentle brush of Ignis’ hand against his cheek. 

“Yes,” Ignis said again. He brought Prompto’s forehead to his own, his eyelids fluttering closed. “That… is all that matters.”

-♊-♊-♊-

Ignis remained more silent than usual. Sitting in the back of the Regalia with Prompto at his side, he listened to his companions chatter excitedly amongst themselves, the relief that everyone was now confirmed to be safe and sound elevating their moods like fizzy lifting drinks. Ignis, while sharing their sentiments, wasn’t quite as animated, preoccupied with his thoughts.

“So anyway,” Noctis continued, practically vibrating in the driver’s seat as he resisted the urge to turn around and face Prompto, “after asking around at some of the rest stops nearby, we finally got a lead. You know that weird frog lady?”

“Sania,” Gladio grunted.

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis waved his hand. “Sania. Turns out she’s like, a daemon expert. We told her that we were fighting Mindflayers when you guys suddenly disappeared, and apparently she’d been researching them, alongside working on her frog project.”

“Yeah?” Prompto asked, leaning forward with his arms resting on the seat in front of him. 

“There’s been some mutations,” Gladio chimed in. “Different regions got different versions of some daemons and beasts. Some of the more… spiritly ones have been spotted flitting around, traveling long distances. Ones from the far west and even overseas have started showin’ up here in Lucis.”

“And get this,” Noctis said, the volume of his voice rising. “Apparently the ones we were fighting were like, some sort of weird rare type.”

Gladio nodded. “So we ended up hanging with Sania for a few days--”

“A few  _ days _ ?” Prompto squeaked, jaw dropping. He waved his hands around. “Wait wait wait wait, just how long were me and Iggy gone for?”

“Two weeks,” Noctis replied.

Ignis shifted in his seat.

“Two weeks,” Prompto repeated. He turned to face Ignis, looking uneasy and filled with questions Ignis could not answer. “Holy shit, dude. I can’t believe it. We were unconscious in the woods for two weeks?”

“No, you weren’t unconscious,” Gladio said. “According to Sania, some blasts from that type of Mindflayer can actually send their victims to another dimension.”

“Yeah. And only one person has ever returned!” Noctis exclaimed, letting go of the steering wheel as he raised his hands in excitement. He cleared his throat, quickly placing them back down, lest he cause an accident. “Uh. Well. Only one person whose experience was documented, anyway.”

“And how did they return?” Ignis inquired.

“It’s weird. So the guy who was afflicted said he’d woken up beneath the ocean, only he could breathe just fine. He drifted through the sea for months, then one day, he sensed an overwhelming presence, something  _ massive _ \- and then, he found himself swimming alongside the great goddess Leviathan. Then,  _ bam _ . Next thing he knew, he was back to his own time.”

Prompto blinked. “So... what does that mean?” he asked.

“He was a devout worshipper of Leviathan. Said all he’d ever wanted since he was a kid was to meet her face-to-face. And in that dimension, he got to.”

“Yeah, but what does that  _ mean _ ?” Prompto said again.

Gladio shrugged. “Guess the key to breaking the spell is wish fulfillment.”

Ignis’ breath ceased.

“Wish fulfillment, huh,” Prompto mused. He turned and smiled at Ignis; his eyes crinkled, mouth widening in that bright, sunny, lopsided grin that Ignis had fallen head over heels in love with many years ago. “Well, I dunno, dude. I can’t remember a thing. Just kinda… woke up. If we  _ did _ get transported to some kind of other dimension, it’s completely beyond me. Do you remember anything, Iggy?”

“No,” said Ignis. “I’m afraid I cannot recall any details.”

“Oooh, a mystery,” Noctis said in a spooky voice. “You sure you guys didn’t just ditch us and elope to Altissia or something for two weeks?”

“N-no!” Prompto yelped. “Besides, elope in  _ what _ ?  _ You _ guys had the car!”

Noctis laughed. “Sure, sure. Anyway. Who cares about the details. You’re back. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. He leaned his head down against Ignis’ shoulder, giving a sigh as he closed his eyes. “We’re in one piece. Can’t ask for much more than that, right?”

And with that, the conversation died, and silence fell over the Regalia. Prompto fell fast asleep, Noctis flipped on the radio, Gladio pulled out his novel, and Ignis remained, as he was, deep and lost within the confines of his mind.

_ Wish fulfillment. _

Ignis had lied, earlier.

He’d recalled plenty - he’d recalled  _ everything,  _ actually - and the longer he thought about it, the more it all began to make perfect sense.

Prompto’s innocent desire; to express his true feelings to Ignis.

His own heartfelt and selfless desire; to protect Prompto, at all costs.

The Ignis from fifteen years in the future, who had failed to fulfill his only desire, and what grew in its place had caused him such unrelenting anguish and cruel  _ torment _ ; to somehow undo the worst day of his life.

As he watched Prompto sleep soundly against him, peaceful, angelic as he was when he’d fallen asleep between mirrored versions of himself, Ignis felt an immense relief wash over him, like a soothing, warm waterfall. He knew not what awaited them thirteen years from now, but he felt at peace, knowing he would be ready. 

_ Sleep well, my beloved.  _

_ You are safe now. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. <3 You can find me here:
> 
> My Tumblrs:  
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> 
> My Twitters:  
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